The Sea's Rough Magic

by Alicia C Graybill

  )O(

  The following Sunday, James and his new wife attended church as a favor to Reverend Blunt. As they were leaving the service, a familiar sight caught James' eye. He glanced down at Aaron, suddenly worried, but threw his shoulders back and drew a bracing breath in preparation for the confrontation to come.

  “Commodore, what a pleasant surprise,” The young woman with sparkling dark eyes and honey-colored hair said. She wore a gold brocade dress of the latest style though her parasol remained closed and held in her hand almost like a cutlass. “And this is your new wife?”

  James smiled and slid his arm around the black-haired beauty. She leaned into him and looked anywhere but at the girl. “Yes, this is Erin. I wasn’t aware you had returned from England, Abigail. Your father must be pleased.”

  “He would be more pleased had I married you and remained,” She gave Erin a welcoming grin and extended her hand. “Welcome to Port Royal, Erin. I hope we can become friends.”

  Erin looked up at James and he translated the greeting into French. Abigail’s eyes widened. Erin nodded and smiled slightly, her gloved hand slipping into that of the Governor’s daughter.

  “My apologies,” Abigail said directly to Erin in French. “I did not know you spoke French. Are you settling in well?”

  Erin nodded again then looked up at James, touching her lips with a graceful gesture. At that James smiled and spoke. “Perhaps I should explain. Erin was in an accident as a child and rendered mute. When she can talk, her voice is very difficult to understand. It’s fortunate for the two of us that love needs no voice.”

  “Too true,” Abigail said, a sad smile replacing her welcoming grin. “May I invite the both of you to dinner tomorrow evening? I know you are bound to leave in a few weeks but—it would be unconscionable for me to allow you to escape without it.”

  James looked down at Aaron but he refused to meet Dunbar's eyes. "I'm not certain, Miss Robbins. We have so much to do to pre-."

  Governor Robbins appeared beside Aaron at that second, so close that James thought Aaron might knock him down to get away. The Governor's eyes were focused on Aaron. "Nonsense, my good man. Consider this a wedding gift to the two of you. We can present your lovely wife to Port Royal society."

  James didn't have to look at Aaron to understand the whole concept bothered him terribly. He could feel the former pirate shivering already. After a moment, James forced a smile. "Of course. That would be quite special to us both. Thank you, sir. Miss Robbins."

  James started to push away but suddenly Abigail's hand was on his arm. He turned and met her eyes. She smiled gently. "He means well. Don't worry. I'll make sure it's a small party. I can see that Erin isn't comfortable in crowds. Trust me."

  When James met her eyes again, he managed a genuine smile. "Very well, Miss Robbins. Thank you for being so understanding."

  "Call me Abigail," She said then turned to Aaron and said, in French, "It was nice meeting you."

  Aaron nodded though he refused to look at her. Worried, James drew Aaron even closer and turned them toward home.

  )O(

  Chapter 35:

  The Governor's Dinner Party: Port Royal

  Lady Elena Wendover looked Abigail Robbins over with a proud smile. The young woman would make a fine match for any suitable bachelor. Unfortunately, the most suitable bachelor for the girl had just been married off.

  "And do we know what the girl's name is?" Elena said after watching Abigail play with her hair for far too many minutes.

  Frustrated, Abigail dropped her hairbrush on the dressing table and sighed. "Erin. Have you seen her? She's absolutely beautiful. I would kill to have those cheekbones!"

  Elena laughed and stepped up behind Abigail, twisting her locks into a perfect chignon and fixing it with two perfectly placed pins. "My dear girl, you are just as beautiful. From what I hear, there's talk this girl is of mixed blood. If that should be proven, you know, the Commodore could have the marriage annulled. I do have friends on Hispaniola."

  "Elena, you will do no such thing," Abigail said, admiring her hair in the mirror. "I don't want to be married to James Dunbar. Do you understand how horribly boring that life would be? I'd rather marry a-a pirate! Besides, you didn't see them together. They are most definitely in love."

  "Love doesn't last," Elena responded, now preening her own curls in the mirror. "If you marry for love, you'll end up a bitter, sad woman. You marry for money or for position. Love is a romantic notion best confined to use for seducing the handsome stable-boy. It's far more satisfying that way."

  "Elena, if my father heard you speaking that way, he would faint from the shock," Abigail turned to stare at the older woman. "You haven't set your sights on Papa, have you?"

  Elena laughed, "My dear girl, Daniel is a fine man and an excellent catch for a certain type of woman. I, however, have a different set of circumstances. I came here to Port Royal for the sunshine, the adventure, and to get you married."

  Abigail shook her head and stood, adjusting her skirts and smoothing her sleeves. "I told you before, Elena, marriage is my father's wish. I have other plans."

  "So you say," Elena laughed lightly and turned toward the door. "Who else has been invited?"

  "Commodore and Mrs. Dunbar, as we discussed," Abigail led her out the door and down the hall to the stairs. "Squire Green, who recently lost his wife in childbirth, and the Stewarts, who own a sugar plantation nearby. Robert and Fiona were just married last year and she is expecting their first child in a few months."

  "Green is the barrister, isn't he?" Elena asked. "You know, you could do worse than a barrister."

  "He's almost as old as my father!" Abigail glared at her.

  Elena shrugged. "All the better. You'll still be able to enjoy his money when he dies, hmm?"

  Abigail made a sound between a strangled gasp and a sigh of exasperation. They entered the dining room for a final inspection before the guests were due to arrive. After spending a few minutes examining things and giving final orders to the servants, they moved into the salon where Abigail took up her most recent needlework project and Elena began to play the harpsichord while they waited.

  It didn't take long before the bell rang. Abigail set her work aside and stood as Squire Green entered. A stout man who usually had a twinkle in his eye, he now wore a black band of silk around his left arm and a somber expression. As Abigail made small talk with him, she found herself picturing being married to him. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the very notion.

  Before long, the Governor turned up and relieved Abigail of the Squire's company. The Stewarts were the next to arrive, bringing a great deal of lively talk about babies and crops. As the time wore on, nearing half-past the hour, Abigail began to worry. She checked with the footman if the Dunbars had sent their regrets but he assured her that no such missive had arrived.

  Finally, nearly three quarters of an hour late, the butler stepped into the salon. "The Commodore and Mrs. Dunbar."

  The Commodore wore his best dress uniform but it was his wife who drew the attention of everyone in the room. Abigail knew this because even Elena stopped playing. Erin wore a sky blue dress with silver brocade, her hair hanging in loose curls around her face. Abigail noted, sadly, that Erin's hand clung to James' arm with desperation and she refused to look up at anyone. Abigail stepped forward after a moment, flashing her most welcoming smile.

  "James and Erin, how wonderful of you to come. You're just in time to sit down to dinner with us. Please, follow me," Abigail caught Erin's other arm and turned them both to accompany her. "Normally, I would seat you two away from each other so you had to mingle but since Elena and I seem to be the only others here who speak French, I'll put you near us."

  Abigail could feel how thin Erin's arm was and she had to fight to keep the smile on her face. Commodore Dunbar's new bride was very delicate and Abigail couldn't help but worry for her. Abigail had seen far sturdier women die in childbirth She only
hoped James would not be inconsolable should his mate pass away under such conditions.

  Abigail brought them to the left of the hostess' chair. James held the chair for Erin then stepped to the hostess' chair to hold it for Abigail. Abigail felt her eyebrows climb in shock when Elena pushed her way in and took the seat she had intended for herself. That put Elena immediately beside Erin and James between his wife and his former fiancée. Abigail sighed and shot Elena a knowing glare then turned and took the seat that James was holding for her.

  )O(

  Daniel Robbins let his eyes wander over the small group of people gathered in the parlor. Normally, after dinner, the gentlemen would retire to his office for drinks and cigars while the ladies would spend time gossiping in the salon. But Commodore Dunbar refused to leave his new bride's side so they were all seated in the salon. He settled his gaze on that young woman and smiled slightly. He couldn't blame Dunbar for being reluctant to be parted from her.

  "So, Commodore," Elena was saying. "How did you meet Erin?"

  James looked up, startled, and stammered. "Well, I-To tell you the truth, I don't remember. It was when I first came to the Caribbean. I ended up spending some time in Port-au-Prince thanks to some repairs that the ship I was assigned to needed. My father had a business associate who lived there so I went to visit and Aa-Erin was visiting also. I looked into her eyes and just knew."

  "Yet you still pursued matrimony with Abigail even though you loved another?" Elena asked, a smile on her face though Abigail looked like she longed to kick her in the shin.

  "Well," James hesitated and glanced at Erin. She gave him a slight smile then looked away, still tremendously uneasy. "To be perfectly frank, my parents won't approve of Erin. She's French, of course. I tried to put her out of my mind and thought that Abigail, beautiful, intelligent and charming young woman that she is, could help me do just that."

  Daniel snorted at that. "Flattery, Commodore, is useless with my daughter. You might as well hand her a bouquet of flowers when she'd rather read a book. I tell you, it comes from her mother's side of the family. Scholars the lot of them!"

  Abigail laughed at that. "Now, Father, our guests don't really care to hear about my uncle the don. Erin, allez-vous très bien?"

  At the words, James glanced back down at his wife. Erin truly did look unwell, Daniel noted, and he felt immediate sympathy for the young couple. When Priscilla had Abigail, there had been a short period of time that the three of them had been happy together. By the time Abigail was four years old, though, Priscilla had died. Robbins wished fervently that Abigail had married the dashing young Commodore. It would have made him so very happy and he could almost imagine that he would be dandling his first grandchild upon his knee at next Christmas-tide. James murmured something to his bride and she nodded slowly.

  "I really must apologize," James said at that, rising and offering Erin his hand. "I'm afraid that Erin is not feeling well. Part of the reason we were late to dinner. It was most kind of you to invite us, Abigail, and the meal was wonderful. Lady Elena, meeting you was quite pleasant and I do hope to see you again. Mr. and Mrs. Stewart, it was a pleasure seeing you again. Squire, I will inquire upon that matter we discussed as soon as I arrive in Nassau. Thank you very much. Governor?"

  Robbins stood and took James' hand, shaking it firmly. He then bowed low to Erin. "It was a singular pleasure meeting you, my dear. I wish my daughter had half of your sense. I do hope you have enjoyed your time in Port Royal and I wish you and your husband all the best, hmm?"

  Abigail had stepped up beside him and was translating for him. He followed most of it but didn't understand her final words. It was at that moment that Elena stepped up beside him and whispered her own translation.

  "Abigail is telling her to take care of herself and for them both to write as often as they can," Elena sighed and slid her arm through Daniel's. "Priscilla would be proud, you know. Abigail has turned out very well."

  Daniel couldn't stop the proud smile as he watched Abigail escort the Dunbars out the door. "She is her mother's daughter. If there was anything I did, it was to bring steadying influences into her life. Are you certain you would never consider taking the Robbins name?"

  Elena shook her head again and patted Daniel's hand. "My sister was a much less ambitious sort than I am, dear. I have plans, including one to see more of the Caribbean before I consider returning to England. Port-au-Prince was mentioned just tonight and then I do have friends on St. Thomas. I happen to know that Reggie Simmons will be in Nassau for the winter season. I do so enjoy his company. Perhaps we can persuade Abigail to come with me?"

  Robbins shook his head. "Again, I find myself at once disappointed and relieved. If you can persuade Abigail to join you, my dear, I will not stand in the way. For now, though, can you favor us with a melody?"

  "I would be honored," Elena said. She hesitated for a moment as she watched Abigail see the Dunbars out the door then turn back to catch sight of Elena and Daniel with their arms entwined. At Abigail's expression of surprise and--Elena noticed this with a bit of satisfaction--dismay, Elena laughed lightly and took her place at the harpsichord, beginning a lively dance tune.

  )O(

  Chapter 36:

  Revelation

  The ride home from the Governor's mansion was silent. James drew Aaron against him and settled an arm around his shoulders. He's still too thin, James considered and wondered if that was why Abigail had been so solicitous of Aaron tonight. When Abigail had rejected his suit, James had understood that she didn't love him in any possible way. But her behavior tonight showed him that she was still his friend. She had been kind, gracious and very sweet to "Erin." He himself hadn't even noticed Aaron's condition until Abigail said something.

  "How are you feeling, Raven?"

  Aaron shrugged. James waited for him to respond but no words followed. The ride from the Governor's mansion to his own home was not long and they were drawing up to the door before either had the time to say anything more. James stepped down from the carriage and offered Aaron his hand. With one arm around Aaron, they entered the house.

  As soon as the door shut, Aaron drew the gloves off and tossed them onto the hall table. The next item to be removed was the wig. James caught that before it could be put into total disarray. He removed his own wig and placed them both, carefully, atop the banister so they could take them upstairs when they were ready. He turned to see Aaron was running his fingers through his dark hair, scratching at his scalp, his eyes half-closed with the pleasure.

  "Once your own hair is long enough, perhaps you can forego the wig," James said after a few seconds.

  Aaron nodded. "That's what I thought. Don't know how ye can stand t' wear the things all the time. Jus' like this damn corset."

  Unable to resist any longer, James crossed the tile floor and brought Aaron into his embrace then pressed a kiss to his mouth. Aaron relaxed into his lover’s arms and was considering proposing they retire to their bed when James pulled back abruptly.

  “What is in your pocket? Something’s stabbing me,” James reached for the pocket concealed in Aaron’s skirt when the former pirate remembered and drew away, covering the opening with his hand.

  “It’s nothin’ fer ye t’ concern yourself with, love,” He rasped and turned to head up the stairs. “Shall we off t’ bed?”

  But James refused to be denied. He drew Aaron firmly back to him by the elbow and struggled briefly with him to get the hand away from the skirt. “Aaron, please, don’t make things difficult.”

  “I ain’t the one bein’ difficult!” Aaron snapped but the unexpected pain in his throat took his concentration off the battle.

  Within seconds, James had his hand into the pocket and drew out what was inside: A silk kerchief with the delicate monogram of EW that Aaron must have stolen from Lady Wendover, a silver napkin ring that James recognized as belonging to their host of the evening, and a sapphire-headed stickpin—the kind gentlemen wore in their sashes. James l
ooked over the items and sighed heavily.

  “Why? What is the purpose to this? I can buy you--,” James began but Aaron shook his head, his face growing troubled.

  “Don’t know, love, but I jus’ had t’ take ‘em. ‘Twas like they were trophies or something. It ain’t a matter of the having so much as the doing, savvy?”

  James’ mouth drew into a thin line. “You must never do this again, Aaron. You’ve jeopardized everything, my career and our lives, by doing this. What were you thinking?!”

  Aaron cringed suddenly, expecting James to wallop him as McSwain had done so many times. Instead, there was a gentle touch on his upper arm. Aaron pulled away, huddling into himself more determinedly, but James refused to be put off.

  “Aaron, look at me,” The voice was, to Aaron’s ears, cold and wrathful. He turned and started to run up the stairs but tripped over the accursed dress he wore and fell. He raised his hands to ward off the blow when he felt James’s hands drawing him to his feet.

  “Don’t,” Was all he could manage to say before the terror made it too painful to breathe.

  “Raven, look at me,” James repeated and Aaron felt the cool, strong hands forcing his chin up. His eyes opened and met James’s. They gazed at one another for several minutes, James’s face full of confusion as Aaron’s pleaded for mercy. Aaron cringed again when James reached for him but the younger man simply rested his palm against the former pirate’s cheek, twining his fingers into Aaron’s dark hair. “I would never strike you, I swear that on my grandmother’s grave. I’m not McSwain. You are safe with me, do you understand? No matter what happens, no matter what you do or say, I would sooner take off my own hand than harm you. You’re the one person in this whole world that matters most to me. Please don’t be afraid of me.”

  Aaron swallowed with difficulty and pulled away slowly. He was shivering and his knees, suddenly, could no longer support him. He slumped down to sit on the bottom step, hugging himself to stop the shaking. It didn’t work, just as it had never worked before. How could he stop being afraid? He wanted to but just when he thought it was gone, the fear reared its ugly yellow head and shook him by the scruff.