The Sea Rose

by Amylynn Bright

  In the kitchen, moving the cast iron oven was much harder to do alone, but he managed by wedging himself between it and the wall. Grunting and swearing, he scooted the massive oven the several feet required in order to get to the false stone in the floor underneath. Using a thick butcher knife as a lever, he pried the stone loose and reached into the dark hole with both hands to hoist out a bulky strongbox which he plunked on the floor with a weighty thud.

  “Praise the heavens,” Jack muttered in relief. The safe was heavy. It had to be. It held his entire future.

  He trotted down the hall and stripped the bed of its linens. He took the pillowcases in hand and headed back to the kitchen.

  Once empty of the gold, jewels and other treasures, Jack dropped the box back into the hole and set the kitchen to rights. There was no point in making it obvious to anyone who came looking for him that he’d been there.

  Jack doubled up the linen pillowcases. A person’s future was a substantial weight – heavier than he’d expected it to be. Perhaps he miscalculated and should have brought a cart. Well, there was no time for it now. He dropped the bags on the floor of the hall and headed back into the bedroom. He pulled the documents he needed from a less secure, but still well hidden, secret compartment in the headboard of his bed. A few trinkets and small keepsakes were added to his pockets.

  One last glance around the room and he was ready to go.

  Back to collect Rose and then he was home free.

  “It was certainly convenient of you to collect so much evidence for me. I always find that task to be so mundane and tedious.”

  “Fuck.” Jack didn’t recognize the voice but he knew who it was before he turned around. “Governor Rogers. I had hoped to avoid this introduction.”

  “Well that would have been a shame.” Rogers shifted his weight to one side and adjusted a lace cuff with an air of complete ease. It was probably the five armed soldiers who had come up behind him that allowed him the luxury. “Then you wouldn’t have had the opportunity to partake in the hospitality Nassau has become so famous for of late.”

  “Yes,” Jack nodded. His fingertips caressed the handle of his cutlass. “Unfortunately, the lodgings I noticed at the harbor are somewhat less hospitable than I’ve grown accustomed to.”

  Rogers gestured at Jack’s hand next to the scabbard. “I wouldn’t suggest you act hastily, Jack, unless you wish to proceed directly from capture to execution. Although, it doesn’t matter to me either way if we hang you in town or shoot you dead in your own home.”

  Jack pulled his hand away and he raised it to his side, palm up. He couldn’t give Rogers any reason to kill him here. There was so much more at stake than just his life now.

  Chapter Eleven

  Roselyn wiggled her toes in a new pair of leather half boots. She hadn’t expected to have such luck finding what she needed in the pirate capital, but apparently there was a thriving industry in women’s clothing in Nassau. Evidently, the abundance of houses of ill repute and lusty sailors looking for presents for their wives and mistresses afforded enough business for even some competition among the milliners and seamstresses in town. Although, not all the clothes were what one would have expected in London. Roselyn did a considerable amount of blushing when she found the “small clothes” section and discovered the items rather more risqué than she was accustomed to. The proprietress of the shop helped her pick out a few suitable items and even convinced her to add something pretty and flimsy to her pile of purchases.

  Laden with packages in both hands, Roselyn stepped out on to Nassau’s main thoroughfare. She glanced along the street, first one direction and then the next, unsure of what to do with herself now. The shopkeepers offered to have a boy run her purchases home for her, but she’d refused having no idea at what address to have them delivered. Once again, she wondered why Jack had been so wary of allowing her to come into Nassau by herself. The streets were relatively empty. A few women bustled along the walk to and from what appeared to be a grocer’s, and a couple of workmen toted some lumber and tools towards the harbor. There weren’t even as many children out and about as she’d expected.

  Even as she finished the thought, a lad barreled around the corner and skidded to a halt in an effort to avoid running her over completely. Nevertheless, her carefully wrapped parcels tumbled to the ground when they collided.

  “Sorry, miss.” The boy reached down and helped to gather the bundles strewn along the ground.

  “No harm done,” Roselyn smiled at the boy. He couldn’t have been more than seven or eight. His skin dark brown from the sun, his crooked smile flashed white. “Where are you going to in such a hurry?”

  “They caught another pirate,” he told her and a flash of anxiety mixed with excitement slid across his face. “I gotta go tell Big Jim.”

  Sweet lord, don’t let it be her pirate. “Who?”

  “Big Jim,” he repeated, “the Harbor Master.”

  “No, who is the pirate?” Oh please, oh please, oh please.

  “It’s a big fish this time.” The boy nodded his head in agreement with himself. “Not as big as if they’d nabbed Teach before he hightailed it out of here, but still, bigger than Horton or Ching.”

  Roselyn blinked several times in rapid succession while the boy rambled off a who’s who of captured and escaped pirates. She grabbed the boy by the arm to make him stop. “Who was it?” she asked a bit louder.

  “Handsome Jack,” he told her with authority.

  “Oh my God.” Roselyn’s fingers gripped the packages tighter and her knees felt liquid. What was she to do now? She couldn’t allow Jack to die. A heady image of him propped on his elbow, his tan skin in stark contrast against the white bed sheets, grinning at her with desire in his dark eyes flittered through her mind. “How long ago did they capture him? Where? Did they hurt him?” So many questions…

  “I saw them dragging him out of his house just a few minutes ago.” The boy watched her with interest.

  “Dragging him!” Roselyn exclaimed. They were dragging her lover off to his death while she shopped for clothes to tempt him. How unbearably frivolous of her.

  “Only ‘cause of the chains around his ankles.”

  “Oh,” she moaned. The liquid feeling in her legs increased. She glanced around but there was nowhere to sit. She needed to calm down and think. Think Roselyn, this is no time for missish panic. “What is your name?”

  “Amos.”

  “Do you want to help Jack?” At this point, she needed all the help she could get.

  “That’s why I was going to Big Jim.” He reached over and took half her bundles and jerked his head in the direction of the harbor. Together they headed off at a fairly quick pace along the empty street.

  “What will Big Jim do?”

  The boy raised a shoulder in a bony shrug. “I don’t know, but he and Handsome Jack is friends.”

  “I wonder if anyone aboard Neptune’s Revenge knows yet.” Surely Blake and the other men would come to his rescue if they knew. They would, wouldn’t they? Surely, there was honor among thieves.

  It turned out Jack’s crew didn’t know, but Big Jim sent a courier out to the vessel right away with the news. From the office of the Harbor Master, she could see the crew streaming off the ship like rats and rowing to the pier. Certainly with so many loyal men, Jack would be rescued.

  Oh please, oh please, oh please. The mantra ran repeated under all of her other thoughts like the chorus of one of her father’s church hymns, a silent and desperate plea.

  Big Jim it turned out was an understatement. Roselyn shook the hand of the biggest man she’d ever laid eyes on after Amos sputtered out the alarming news of Jack’s arrest.

  “I’m Big Jim,” he’d told her. Big? More like humongous or gargantuan. His voice boomed through the small office, deep and sonorous, and tempered her panic with a sense of his command and capability.

  “Roselyn Weldon,” she answered back. “I’ll do anything to help Jack.”

/>   Big Jim looked her over with an appraising eye. His review of her wasn’t lascivious, instead it seemed as if he was taking her into account and assessing any skills that could be used later. “Can you shoot?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Any good with a knife?”

  “No.” She shuddered at the thought.

  Big Jim sighed. “Can you ride at least?”

  Roselyn deflated. “No.” She was useless, irretrievably and hopelessly useless. If Jack died because of her complete lack of skills, well, she’d never forgive herself.

  “Who are you exactly?” Big Jim asked.

  Who was she anymore? Clearly, she was a woman with no useful skills. Reciting the books of the New Testament probably couldn’t help save the man she loved. “I’m no one. Jack saved me when my ship sank. I was coming here to marry your minister.”

  Big Jim looked at her with distaste she was certain signified her complete lack of helpfulness. “You’re the minister’s fiancée? You were going to marry that prat Merickel?”

  “Not anymore.” She sighed. There had to be something she could do to help.

  “Good,” Big Jim boomed. “That man is a real horse’s ass. I can tell by looking at ya, you deserve better than that one.”

  Roselyn smiled, heartened. “Really, I want to help rescue Jack. He’s helped me so much…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. She wanted to tell Big Jim and his gentle, smiling eyes just how much Jack had saved her and how much she loved him, but that seemed foolish.

  “Well, you’ve given me an idea.” Big Jim didn’t have the chance to elaborate before the Neptune’s Revenge’s crew burst through the door. They all ignored Roselyn while they loudly discussed a plan. Roselyn breathed deeply and urged herself not to give up hope.

  “Have no fear, Miss,” the Quartermaster told her with a squeeze to her shoulder. “The Revenge crew is the best there is. We’ve gotten out of worse.”

  Oh please, oh please, oh please.

  Chapter Twelve

  Roselyn smoothed her palms over the borrowed dress. Apparently, Big Jim had a wife, Little Bess, whom Roselyn didn’t find to be little, necessarily, but next to Big Jim, everyone was little. Bess had showed up at her husband’s office right after she’d heard the news of Jack’s capture. Apparently, Little Bess was as fond of Jack as her husband was, so she was more than willing to help Roselyn dress for her part in the rescue.

  The gingham material of the shirtwaist depressed her. Although, it occurred to her that in the plain, checked, cotton dress, her former fiancé would have found her perfectly acceptable. Even her father would have allowed it. Perversely, she wanted nothing more than to slide back into the gorgeous lilac silk Jack had found for her, the dress that made her feel pretty and sensual and loved.

  “Now remember to walk real slow once you get inside so you don’t jingle,” Little Bess told her while she finished the buttons up the back.

  “Right,” Big Jim agreed with a nod of his massive head. “That’d ruin everything.”

  “I’ll remember,” Roselyn promised. How could she forget? She was mildly terrified that if she moved too quickly one of the knives sown into the hem or waistband would stab her. Besides, it was hard enough to walk with loaded flintlock pistol strapped to her thigh.

  “Here’s the book.” Amos handed her the only bible he could find in the lawless pirate harbor.

  “Are you ready, miss?” Blake and a few others of the pirate crew remained at the Harbor Master’s office. The others had gone back to prepare the ship or had already taken up their positions along the route.

  Roselyn nodded. She didn’t want to think too much about her role in the breakout – it would only make her nervous, and what she had to do was much too important to get stage fright now.

  Amos accompanied her on the walk to the jail. His chatter calmed her even though she couldn’t listen to his words, the lilting sound of his Caribbean accent smoothed over the nerves she sought to soothe.

  The boy pointed to a squat, stone building. “There it is.”

  Roselyn knew she didn’t have to concern herself with the soldiers outside the post but the ten or fifteen of them made her nervous anyway. Amos walked with her to the door.

  “Remember,” the boy whispered to her, “these soldiers will all be gone when you and Jack come out, so head right for the ship.”

  Roselyn gave a jerky nod. “Stay with me.” Her armpits were damp and she couldn’t blame it on the Caribbean humidity. Just breathe, Roselyn, just breathe.

  “Hello, pretty lady.” A soldier moved to her side and walked with them the length of the walkway to the door. He was of an age with her father, but there was nothing paternal about the man. The way he looked at her made her skin crawl. “Pretty, pretty lady. What brings you to our dirty jail?”

  “She come for the hanging, I bet,” said a fat soldier who looked even sweatier than Roselyn felt. She studiously ignored the man’s heartless comments and concentrated on gliding, jingle-free, towards the stockade.

  “How can I help you, miss?” Standing just inside the open doorway, the soldier who addressed her was young and tall, and he had more epaulets on his jacket than the other men. He looked disdainfully past her shoulder to the soldiers in the yard.

  “I’m here to minister to the prisoner,” Roselyn said with as much serene dignity as she could muster under the circumstances. “I hope to save his soul before you mete out his punishment.” Save his soul and his beautiful neck.

  “The boy I know, but I don’t believe you’ve been here before.” The young man squinted at her like he could see into her heart and new she was lying. That’s your father talking. He can’t see anything.

  “I am Miss Weldon, Reverend Merickel’s fiancée.” It was only a lie for the last several hours. She had been the reverend’s fiancée for longer than she hadn’t been. “I’ve helped many lost souls find redemption before they meet their final reward. No matter what the man’s crime, he deserves to know his maker before he dies.” Amos sidled nearer the man in charge.

  “Oh, let her go, Major Hansen,” the lecherous old soldier told his superior while he ogled her. “Let the last thing he sees be a pretty piece.”

  The young major shot the man a distasteful glare. “I’m not sure that’s wise, miss. The prisoner is a dangerous and desperate man.”

  Roselyn suspected he was feeling very desperate, indeed. “I’m not afraid, officer. The saving of souls is often a dangerous and desperate occupation.” Roselyn kept his gaze, schooling her features into a passive and benign expression she hoped belied her own feeling of desperation roiling in her stomach.

  Finally Major Hansen nodded and stepped aside to allow her entry. He took her elbow in a courtly gesture to escort her deeper into the jail. “The boy must remain outside. For your safety, I won’t allow you in the cell. You should be able to conduct your business from a chair a relatively safe distance away.”

  Well, that’s not going to work.

  “I’ll wait for you out here,” Amos assured her and shook her hand.

  The hallway seemed excessively long, and the pistol strapped to her thigh was wiggling its way further and further down her leg. Pretty soon she’d have to clench her knees together just to keep it from clanking to the floor. They rounded a dark corner and, there at the end of the hall, was Jack’s cell. A barred window situated high on the wall, too high for a prisoner to see out and too small to wiggle through, afforded enough light for Roselyn to see her pirate.

  Barren of any furniture, Jack sat on the floor of his cell, his back against the wall. His long, black hair hung loose across his face and it was several seconds before he acknowledged their presence approaching down the hall. He kicked out one leg in an overtly relaxed pose and scooped his hair back with one hand to reveal dried blood on his jaw line and his neck. Roselyn barely suppressed a gasp. At least he wasn’t chained. His eyes flashed fire when his gaze met hers and then he was immediately sullen and withdrawn again as he glared at
the major with open antagonism.

  “This young lady has come to offer your soul succor.” The major settled a wooden chair a good five feet from the bars of his cell – too far for the prisoner’s grasp should he mean her harm and too far for Jack’s skillful fingers should he wish to caress her. “You are to act in a gentlemanly manner to her while she is here. Am I clear?”

  Jack snorted and remained seated across the room.

  “I’ll just wait for you over here, Miss Weldon.” Major Hansen indicated a shadowed corner across the room.

  Frustration flashed across Jack’s face.

  “Oh, sir, that won’t do,” Roselyn placed the bible reverently on the wooden chair. “Mr...Handsome Jack needs privacy to come to grips with God, don’t you agree?”

  Major Hansen’s eyebrows met in consternation. “Miss Weldon, I have to insist that I remain – for you safety. If anything should happen to you, Reverend Merickel would not be a happy man.”

  You’d be surprised. “If you were in this man’s place,” Roselyn gestured with a sweep of her arm, “you’d want some privacy.”

  The major looked from Roselyn to Jack and back again, clearly unsure how he should continue. “Ummmm…. I don’t know.” Roselyn willed him to do what she said. Time was of the essence if the plan was to go off without a hitch.

  “Oh for Christ’s sake,” Jack burst out, rising to his feet. “I’m not going to hurt her. How the hell could I behind these bars?”

  Major Hansen glared at Jack before facing Roselyn. “I’ll be right in my office up front. I’ll be able to hear if you scream. Don’t approach the bars, Miss Weldon. He may act perfectly gentlemanly but he’s a filthy, lying pirate who will do anything to escape – even use you as a hostage if necessary.”