My nostalgic reminisce was interrupted by Misses Meisner’s voice. “How are you, my dear Charlotte?” The old round Dutch woman bustled around her table to give me a hug.
Misses Meisner had settled into the merchant business after her husband had passed, and I used to spend most of my time at the market talking with her. She was in close contact with the sailing merchants and joyfully painted vivid pictures of the stories they would relay to her. The romanticized tales about the items she sold and the seas they sailed in from seemed almost too good to be true. I always enjoyed the woman’s company and was happy to see her again.
“I am well, Misses Meisner. How is business?”
“Everything is wonderful you little peach.” She pinched my shoulder. “I hear you are to be married soon?”
I let out an unintended sigh. “Yes, I am.”
“Well now, you do not sound much like a jolly wife to be.”
“Oh, I should be. He is a dashing man of kindness and wealth.”
The old woman lowered her eyebrow and whispered, “Would your dilemma have anything to do with that green eyed buccaneer?”
My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. “What? How? You, you know him?”
“Now that’s the sigh of a woman in love.” She winked. “Yes, he was here about a month ago, telling me all about his fancy for you and insisting that he would return for you through the greatest storms. I told him that you were to be married and he said, “Aye. Me want fer her won’t be allowing that.”
Misses Meisner’s imitation of Sterling’s accent humored me, but the prospect of his words lifted my heart in a wave of surging excitement. My breathing accelerated and I struggled to resist my urge to cry. Misses Meisner wrapped her short arms around me and comforted, “There, there my love. He also paid me to keep something for you.” She waddled around the table and pulled out a piece of colored fabric, handing it to me with a nudge. “I am sure it is personal but I have been dying to know what is inside.”
I unraveled the fabric and squinted with a smile. He left me a neatly rolled rope and a tattered piece of paper. I chuckled at his rugged gesture; how could a mere piece of rope from a buccaneer mean more to me than a beautiful mansion from a dashing gentleman?
“What does the letter say, love?”
I unfolded the paper and saw a hand written verse from the Bible.
1 John 4:18
There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out all fear: Because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made in perfect love.
I could no longer hold back my tears. Misses Meisner held me as I sobbed, and as she rocked me in her arms she told me she was swept away by the beauty of our forbidden romance. “Come now child, I will tell you this of my life. I have only loved one man: Johan Meisner. I left my home to follow him and his dream across this sea. When he passed on, I had the chance to remarry a wealthy man, but I chose this life as a merchant instead. For I would rather sleep alone on a wooden plank than settle in the arms of a man that would never satisfy my longing for Johan.”
Her story went straight to my heart. I admired her bravery and her commitment to her lover, but the pain I felt for her loss intensified the flow of my ridiculous tears.
Misses Meisner let me hug her until my tears dried, and once I settled down she asked, “Do you know what ship he is on, my dear? Maybe I could inform you of some word on his arrival.”
Through my stuffy nose I pouted, “Wind of Glory.”
“Oh, deary. That Captain Morley just ran an invasion against the governor’s beloved Poseidon. The merchant men managed to chase Morley’s pirates away and made it home to make a report against their crimes. Wind of Glory was later seen sailing into Tortuga battered with damage, and knowing their whereabouts, a bounty crew will be heading out to get them.”
“When will they be leaving?” I gasped my worried inquiry.
“Blue Tide will be setting sail the day after tomorrow, at dawn.”
“I could never thank you enough, Misses Meisner.” I paid for the sandalwood oil and hugged her ever so tightly.
So ecstatic over the fact that my lover’s ship was seen, I hardly considered the report of his piracy. Sterling had not returned on time because of unseen damages, and the gift he left for me assured me that he loved me like I loved him. There was a glimmer of light flickering on the darkness of the unknown and that tiny spark was strong enough to start a fire. I reread the tattered piece of paper and grew strengthened by the verse. Suddenly, the fears that tormented me seemed but hiccups on my path. I would rather face the tidal waves of vicious storms and the haunting eyes of ravenous bounty hunters beside the love of my life than to hide from my fears in the arms of another man.
Once I met up with my family I found it easier to force my artificial excitement, and while they carried on with plans for the wedding, I smiled intently; secretly plotting my mutiny.
Returning home to find Mary hanging clean drapes in my room, I shut the door behind me and confessed, “I am sorry, Mary. I was terrible to you and it was wrong. You are the best friend I have ever had and the only one that understands me for who I really am. I unleashed my frustrations on you, and I am truly sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”
Mary hooked the last edge of the drape, hopped down off her step stool and turned to face me. She made that scrunched nose face that I adored. “I forgave you as you said it, Charlotte.”
We hugged and I squeezed her especially tight.
I told Mary all about the emotional whirlwind I had been riding, everything from my flickering attraction to Lawrence, up to my talk with Misses Meisner at the market. Realizing that I had been pacing like a mad woman, I decided to change into my nightgown and unwind. Relieved to escape my heavy clothing, I sighed as I sat on my chaise lounge and enjoyed the full comfort of my nightgown and the company of my very best friend.
I confessed that there was no escaping my love for Sterling Bentley and the way he held my heart with his encompassing aura. Mary listened intently, asking questions as I rambled, smiling and sighing as if she were living my love story herself. When I showed her the rope and the Bible verse, she covered her heart with her hand and sighed, but when I informed her that the Wind of Glory was spotted near Tortuga she gasped with concern. “What ever shall you do, Miss Charlotte?”
“I have a few ideas…” Before I could tell Mary about what I had in mind, she took a heavy breath and held her hand out to stop me. “Charlotte, before you carry on, I have something I need to tell you.”
Concerned by her serious tone, I sat up from my lounged position and leaned closer to hear what she had to say.
“Alright. The evening the Patterson’s home was broken into, there was a witness to the crime. Shannon was there and she saw everything past the point of Maureen going unconscious.”
Edging out of my seat with my eyes wide open in suspense I blurted, “Shannon, Maureen’s maid?”
“Yes, Maureen’s maid, Shannon. She confided her confession in me, insisting that she had to get the weight off of her shoulders.”
I had all but stopped breathing as I waited to hear more.
“That evening, Shannon heard the commotion downstairs so she went to see what was happening. Rounding the corner just in time to see that filthy captain backhand Maureen across the face, Shannon stopped in her tracks behind the wall and froze with fear as she watched Morley raise his blade. She said he appeared to have full intent to kill the witness to his crime, but Sterling pulled his blade out to protect her.
“Charlotte, he was telling you the truth. He jumped in front of Maureen, intercepting the blow of Morley’s blade with his own. Then he warned his captain to back off of the fallen woman. Of course, Morley didn’t take too well to the threat, so he snarled, Aye, you be brazen to raise a blade to your captain, boy.
“He then shifted his weight around Sterling’s blade and shoved him across the counter, but Sterling landed on his feet, charged back at Morley, and threw him against the wall. Rig
ht there inside the Patterson’s home, they engaged in a vicious sword fight that led them all the way to the parlor, bashing over furniture, shattering lamps and vases. Soon enough Morley cornered Sterling against the wall and held his blade to his throat, but Sterling reminded him, Ye be needing me alive, Captain. That key does ye no good without me knowledge.
“Morley flinched in frustration and Sterling took the moment of weakness to maneuver out of the corner, but as he ran for the door, Morley jumped over the couch and beat Sterling to the exit. He pointed his blade towards Sterling’s chest and growled, The only way ye get out of here alive is if ye promise to take me to that loot.
“Taunting with his confidence, Sterling smirked, Aye, the only way I take ye to that loot is if ye promise to get the hell out of here and leave that lass alone.
“Morley withdrew his blade, smiled a smirk of sarcastic obedience, and swooshed his hand like a doorman, welcoming Sterling to walk out the door. Sterling backed out with his blade facing Morley, and they disappeared into the night. Shannon stood there in the hall like a statue until Maureen began to fuss on the floor.”
I felt like Shannon, frozen in disbelief. Once I snapped out of my trance I shook my head like a wet dog and exclaimed, “He really did save her. Oh my, this is unbelievable. And the captain had to keep him alive to get to his treasure? Oh, this is like reading a book! And you know, Mary, that must be what Sterling meant about how his skill had saved his life a few times. That means he most certainly is the remarkable navigator that he claimed to be. Mary, this is amazing. I know everyone says pirates can’t be trusted, but he told me the truth…Wait a minute, why did Shannon keep this story from Maureen?”
Mary laughed at my rambled outburst of thought before she concluded, “Shannon tried to tell her as she awoke, but Maureen hollered at her to be quiet. Shannon has not served Maureen for long and her last master treated her poorly, so she was afraid to make a fuss.”
My heart was a fire of feeling; aflame with the confidence of my decision. Through the warmth of the blaze, I relayed my plan to Mary.
X
I spent the next day with Lawrence, shooting as usual. Just after lunch, he had to go in to meet with a business companion, but I stayed out on the range. After firing off a few shots to sound busy, I stuffed a couple of my favored pistols and a patch box full of musket balls into my breeches. Once everything was in place, I called Emery to clean up and babbled in thanks to distract him from noticing the missing weapons.
Beating Beatrice to the changing room, I hid my stash of weapons in the dresser drawer, and then called her in to help me change. After she left the room, I took the guns out of the drawer and rolled them up within the wad of clothing that Lawrence had gifted to me, and then dropped the neat little package out of the window into the hedges.
Once everything was in place, I walked over to inform Lawrence that I had to be leaving. He introduced me to his companion and after performing all the greetings of a proper fiancé, I attempted to head on my way. Of course Lawrence offered to walk me out but I insisted, “Do not let me interrupt your business, my dear.” To persuade him, I kissed his cheek and assured I would be fine. Through the flush on his face he agreed to let me walk out alone, and though I felt terrible for toying with his emotions, I was ever so relieved to be able to gather my guns from the hedges without his notice.
Stuffing the concealed weapons in the fluff of my extravagant dress, I appreciated the ridiculous layers of frill and lace like I never had before. The walk to the carriage was quite awkward, but Sampson helped me in without question. Knowing that Lawrence would be leaving with his associate and then coming straight to my house for dinner, I could only hope that he would not notice my robbery until long after my plan came into action.
That evening I enjoyed an extravagant dinner with my family and friends whom I had come to love so much. Smiling and laughing as usual, I only drank a few sips of rum and found myself dreading the thought of the evening’s end.
Struggling to maintain my composure during our farewells, the swarm of butterflies that thrashed about in my hollow gut made me feel as if I might vomit. It was especially difficult to say goodnight to my father, and nearly impossible to keep my sanity as I hugged him goodnight. I squeezed him so tight that he laughed, “Good heaven’s my dear. You act as if I am sailing away.”
I kissed him on the cheek. “I just love you so much and appreciate everything you have done for me. I don’t think I tell you that nearly enough.”
“I love you too, my darling daughter. Have a good night’s rest and I will see you in the morning.”
Also dreading my farewell with Lawrence, I told him I was too tired to stay out and chat in to avoid any unnecessary distractions. I could not help but feel guilty over my conspiring act of treason, but I reminded myself that this endeavor was in his best interest as well; for he truly deserved a much greater love than I could offer him. As the respectful gentleman he was, Lawrence Braddock merely kissed me on the cheek as he said goodbye. I hugged him extra tight before he slipped away.
Inspired by my cross emotions of heartbreaking devastation and thrilling anticipation, I rushed up to my room contemplating the words I might write in my letters. Lighting a candle on my desk, I took a deep breath and wrote first to my father.
Father,
I know that you have done your best to raise me as a proper lady, but like the sea, my heart cannot be tamed. Your consistent love and stable understanding have taught me to be strong, stronger than you will ever know.
Though my heart aches to leave you this way, I know I will survive because of the strength you have invested in my being. I promise to return to you safely and I love you with all of my heart.
Sincerely, Charlotte
It was far too painful to imagine what my father’s reaction to my letter would be. In fact, as I sealed the envelope, I promised myself that I would not think of it at all. Attempting to escape the guilt that weighed on my mind, I got straight to writing my letter to Lawrence.
Lawrence, my dear,
I am truly sorry to abandon you this way. You are entirely worthy of a love much greater than I could ever offer you. You are a good man and I wish you the best in your future, I know you will do well in everything that you do.
Sincerely, Charlotte
The Mistress of a Seafaring Buccaneer
After sealing my letter to Lawrence, I assessed the final details of my plan. Pleased to see everything in place, I struggled to convince myself that sleep was the next step. Feeling it would be impossible to do so with the anxiety that was raging in my mind, I reminded myself that I needed all the rest I could get, and forced myself to bed. Managing to relax within my sweet dreams of Sterling, I imagined running my fingers through the length of his fire colored goatee. With the light of the shrinking moon shining through my window, I finally fell asleep.
Awaking before sunrise to prepare for my journey, I started off by wrapping a piece of fabric around my breasts to push them flat; luckily they were not very large, so they were easy to hide. After dressing in the clothing that I took from Lawrence, I holstered the two flintlock pistols into my leather belt and looked at myself in the mirror to assess my masculine image. Though the outfit was perfect, I still looked like a woman.
Deciding it was my hair that caused the problem, I tried first to tuck it into my hat, but I had little faith in the notion. For if it were to fall off, my identity would be too easily exposed. For a moment I fretted over the dilemma, but then I remembered my brother’s stories about Grace O’Malley; the Irish female pirate. When her father told her she could not join him at sea because her long hair would be caught in the rigging, she cut her hair off. I decided to do the same.
Having never done such a thing, I did the most terrible job. Once finished, my uneven and jagged hair hung just below my jaw, roughly trimming my face. I tucked the mess behind my ears and put the hat back on before I looked in the mirror. A young man ready for work smiled back at me th
rough my reflection.
Sorting through my duffle one more time, I smiled at the things Mary had packed for me. The spyglass and the rolled rope that Sterling had given me, along with the patch box of muskets that I had taken from Lawrence, were all stored neatly in the bag. She had also packed me a water canteen, some biscuits and dried fruit. The generous consideration and relentless support of my very best friend filled my eyes with tears.
Resisting the urge to cry, I dabbed a few drops of sandalwood oil on my collar and inhaled the scent to retain the strength I needed to carry on in my drastic flight. As I reveled in the reminiscent aroma, Mary snuck in my door and darted over to hug me. She whispered as if we were telling secrets. “Oh my. Look at you.”
She ran her fingers through my lack of hair and snickered, “I think we shall call you Charlie.”
We giggled together and after hugging again, Mary reached into her nightgown pocket. “I have one more thing to give you, Charlie.” She pulled out a bodice dagger. It was small and silver with red stones embellished on the handle and was stored in an embroidered black leather holster. I gawked over the beauty of the piece as Mary tucked it into my top. “Hide this near your heart to protect yourself and the love that you fight to keep.”
“I will miss you so, Mary.” I began to cry as I held onto my only true friend, but she insisted, “Pirates don’t cry, Charlie. Get on your way.”
I pulled the rope out of my duffle and unwound it into a repel pulley to slide down the wall with. My descent was hardly as graceful as Sterling’s but it was quiet and effective. Once on the ground, I rolled up my rope and blew a kiss to Mary before I slipped off into the darkness.
Justified Treason (Endless Horizon Pirate Stories, Book 1) Page 11