“No, no, of course I do.” Remy tilted her head to the side, her eyes on the floor below her in order to avoid tripping over any stray branches or thick tree roots. “It is just… This woman sounded as though she cursed you. And curses usually have an expiration date. Like, if she wanted you to learn something, she would have said, ‘Learn how to feel these emotions in ten years or you’ll stay here forever’ sort of thing. She did not give you an ultimatum, a timeframe when you must learn your lesson?”
“It’s more complicated than that,” Nick said, reacquiring that same wincing face he had had when he first started telling that story. “Technically, yes, she did, but she also” –
Before Nick could continue, Lieutenant Watson stopped abruptly, causing Giselle to nearly run into him had it not been for Calum’s quick reflexes. “Here we are,” he announced. “We’re just outside the front gates.”
“What now?” Edward asked, crossing his arms.
“We go over to the guards on duty and order them to take us to Commodore Davenport if he’s here,” Watson explained. “But we’ll also need an audience with the governor. He needs to know there’s a madman destroying ships and killing souls. People need to be aware of the threat and prepared to battle if need be.”
“So we’re just going to walk right up to the gates and expect they’ll let us in, no questions?” Adele asked, doubt clearly written in her tone.
“Of course,” Giles said as though as it was the most obvious thing he had heard. “Once they see me, they see I’m alive and well thanks to Captain Grey and his crew, they’ll let us in. Trust me.”
The crew emerged from the protective greenery and into plain sight. It was not long before they were spotted by guards and ordered to stay where they were. Giles stopped and raised his hands as though offering his surrender. The crew looked to Nick, and once Nick followed Giles’s suit, the crew followed Nick’s.
“Well, well, well,” a guard said as he approached the group, immediately taking notice of Nick and seeming to ignore Giles’s presence. “Nicholas Grey. Please tell me you’re not stupid enough to come here of your own free will when there’s quite a high price on your head and the gallows just waiting for you to grace your presence.”
“Commander Branch,” Giles said, interrupting the man from his gloating. “We need to speak to Commodore Davenport and Governor Comrie immediately. Do you understand?”
But Commander Branch’s attention was drawn elsewhere. His hard brown eyes were now staring straight at Remy, his mouth dropped into a small ‘o’ as though in awe of her. “Who,” he began and then stopped. He closed his mouth, his eyes swimming with Remy’s, like he was searching for the words to say but unable to find the proper way to describe what he wanted known. He was finally able to say, “Who is she?”
“That doesn’t matter.” Giles took a step in front of Commander Branch in order to block Remy from Branch’s sight. Branch tried to look over the lieutenant’s shoulder but failed. Finally, he pulled his eyes up to Watson’s face. “Branch. The Commodore and the Governor?”
“What of the pirate crew?” Commander Branch asked. It looked as though he was struggling to keep his eyes fixed ahead of him and not anywhere Remy.
“They will accompany me,” Watson explained. “Branch, I do not need to tell you anything further. I’m certain you’ve heard of the Fearless attack? This business is in relation to that.”
Branch looked behind him at his fellow guards who surrounded their leader at a respectable distance. When he either found the answer that he was looking for or realized it was not written anywhere he could see, he swiveled his head back around and nodded once. “Of course,” he said. “Shall I detain the pirate crew while you have your word?”
“No,” Giles said with a swift shake of his head. “They shall accompany. I understand it’s rather unorthodox, but I assure you it is of the utmost importance.”
Gregory Branch looked as though he wanted nothing more than to argue, but Giles narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, preventing the commander from doing so. Instead, Branch said, “Right this way, then.”
Commander Branch proceeded to lead them through the black gates – Romanesque, if Remy had to guess, the way they swooped and flourished – and then through the front yard. The grass was cut evenly, the sharp scent of it pinching Remy’s nose. Though it was dark, it was rather easy to discern a grand fountain placed to the left of the mansion, near the driveway where carriages dropped off guests and family. Trees and bushes were trimmed to remain pleasing to the eye, and Remy could spot at least three more guards on the grounds. A small flower garden rested near the front door, probably a product of the governor’s wife.
When they climbed the steps, Giles reached out and knocked brusquely on the eggshell-colored doors. Like the gates, the house itself was structured like architecture from Rome, with pillars holding a second story balcony and a large archway that encompassed the front doors. She could not make out any domes, but she doubted the governor had any use for such a specific type of design in his home when it was otherwise quite angled, much like a rather long rectangle.
The door opened, revealing a man Remy immediately recognized as a butler. His entire face drooped down as though the look on his face was permanently etched into that serious frown. His hair was masked by the wig he had to wear and his posture was perfect. His clothing was ironed and tucked in, not a wrinkle or a speck of dust to be found on it. Remy felt a pang at seeing him. She did not know this man personally, but he represented all that was familiar to her. As his grey eyes took in his new guests, she felt a slow, rumbling of shame begin in the deep recesses of her stomach. She was dressed in the same outfit she had been wearing for the past three days. She had not bathed or washed her hair since arriving in The Underworld. She was certain she looked unsightly and smelled even worse. How could she be seen looking so disheveled? Her parents taught her better than that.
“Yes?” the butler drawled, raising his brows at Lieutenant Watson.
“I need to speak to Commodore Davenport and Governor Comrie immediately,” Giles informed the butler. “I do not have a card with me, but if you tell them that Lieutenant Giles Watson of the Fearless, I am certain they will see us.”
The butler murmured a ‘This way,’ after closing the door and turned on the heel of his polished black shoe and leading them to what Remy believed was the sitting room. The room was set much in the same way her own home was, with bookshelves filled with books, comfortable couches and chairs depending on the number of guests and their preferences, and a small squared table in the middle, in case tea was served. The only difference was that Remy’s sitting room – though it was silly of her to believe that she owned the room normally designated for her father’s business acquaintances – had a piano and this one did not.
Remy took a seat on the lavender colored sofa with Nick following suit next to her and Giselle taking the unoccupied seat next to Nick. Adele took one of the chairs, Calum took the other, and both Edward and Giles opted to stand, the former next to Adele and the latter closer to the doorway of the room.
“What now?” Calum asked in his rough voice, looking at his captain rather than the lieutenant.
“Well,” Nick began, straightening slightly. “We wait. And hope the good commodore doesn’t override Lieutenant Watson’s order of immunity and have us arrested.”
Nineteen
They did not have to wait long.
Apparently the butler was more astute than he appeared because Commodore Davenport was in the sitting room within moments of their arrival. Remy took in the sight of him, deciding that he looked like he was quite good at his job. He certainly was dressed well, as all the occupants of this home appeared to be, and was actually handsome, much younger than a commodore should be. He was tall, about the height of Edward, if not a couple of inches shorter. He, too, had on one of those ridiculous wigs Remy never understood but interestingly enough, that did not deter from his good looks. He had green eyes, a s
hade lighter than the sea, and an oval-shaped face that highlighted his cheekbones. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, narrowing in on the infamous pirate captain seated next to Remy, and the young girl noticed how his gloved hands were curled into tight fists. He had nice, broad shoulders and a well-built frame, ensuring that he was in shape and could handle himself.
Remy was certain he was going to remark about Nick’s presence – the pirate was seated comfortably, as though he was used to such luxury despite his criminal activity – and that casualness seemed to enrage the commodore further.
“Commodore Davenport,” Lieutenant Giles Watson greeted when he saw the commodore. He pushed off the wall he had leaned against and pushed his shoulders back. “I’m glad to see you.”
“As am I,” Commodore Davenport replied, and though he sounded sincere, he also sounded unsure. “What I don’t understand is why there are pirates gracing the governor’s sitting room.”
“There is a good reason for them to be here, as you will soon see.” Giles’s voice was polite but firm, and he leveled his gaze at his superior, never taking his eyes off of the taller man.
Commodore Davenport clenched his jaw, seemingly unhappy with Watson’s decision to keep him uninformed until the governor arrived. His eyes drifted around the room, a look of slight disgust touching his handsome features as he took in the sight before him.
Remy felt herself blush. She could not exactly blame him now, could she? The people here – everyone save for Lieutenant Watson – was dirty and probably smelled quite badly. And here they were, tainting the lovely furniture with their presence. Then his eyes fell on her, and she could not help but roll her shoulders back and edit her posture. She might not look like a lady at present, but she sure as hell would act like one, even if the commodore believed her to be a common pirate. However, he did not look displeased when his eyes encountered her own. Instead, his face softened and his eyes looked… confused. Curious. He knew she was not one of them. He knew she was not of this world.
“Who is she?” The question came out of his mouth before his eyes snapped over to Watson. “Who is that young woman?”
Watson shrugged his shoulders. He did not know who she was, yes, but he, too, felt drawn to her.
“My name is Remy Cutler,” Remy felt herself saying.
“And you’re a pirate?” His tone had a mixture of accusation and interest embedded in it.
Remy opened her mouth to respond, but paused. What did it matter if she was? What did it matter if she was not? She was beginning to realize that particular labels attributed to her were not something she liked all that much, especially when one word was supposed to define who she was: upper class, wealthy, pirate. The words only explained who she was on the outside and where her affiliations were, not anything deeper, anything that actually mattered.
Instead, she answered, “I am a young woman, who happens to be sailing with Captain Grey as part of his crew. That does not make me a pirate.”
The commodore rose his eyebrows, looking at her with such obvious doubt, but before he could verbalize it, Bradley returned to the room with tea and an announcement. “The governor will be here shortly.” His eyes fixated on Adele, still in the seat. “And he would like his seat back, mum.”
“Oh,” Adele said, annoyance in her voice. “Such a gentleman he is. Not even giving his seat up for a lady.”
“I’m certain he would,” Bradley continued as he began to pour the hot liquid into a teacup, “if there were any present.”
It was not solely Adele who narrowed her eyes at the butler, but Remy and Giselle as well. It was Adele who made to rush at him, and she would have succeeded if Edward had not grabbed onto her wrists and held her back. Bradley did not seem to notice anything was amiss, as he kept pouring the tea.
At that moment, the man who was known as Governor Comrie arrived. Remy immediately stood, and Watson and Davenport straightened respectfully. All three men looked at Remy with furrowed brows and surprises written clearly in their irises, as did her fellow crew members. Again, Remy felt herself blush, and as she slid back down in her seat, she mumbled, “What? It is etiquette to stand when someone of great importance enters a room.”
“You are right,” the governor said, making his way over to his seat. His eyes never left Remy, but unlike Watson’s and Davenport’s and every other soul she previously encountered, his eyes were filled with wonder, interest, rather than pure hunger. “Tell me, my dear. You do not speak or carry yourself like a pirate. And yet, you are among them. And yet, I can hear your heart beating as we speak. Where, exactly, are you from and why are you here?”
Remy was not certain whether the governor referred to here as meaning his home or meaning in The Underworld. But it did not matter because Nick decided it was time to cut in.
“Governor, let me interject…” The moment the governor was seated, Nick sprang up like a cat and proceeded to pace about the room. “There is a terrible force out on the sea attacking ships with no notice and slaying souls without mercy. It is typical for this phantom to leave one survivor in order to spread the story and enrich the reputation of this ghost ship.”
“Which is how Lieutenant Watson is still alive,” the governor stated.
Remy glanced at the governor from the corner of her eyes. Interestingly enough, his focus was on Nick rather than her, even though she knew he was drawn to her as well. He was wearing one of those wigs, but instead of the white hair curling up around his ears like Commodore Davenport’s, it dropped so the edges barely grazed his shoulders. The man was rather old, probably in his early fifties due to the wrinkles now occupying his face and the walking stick he now had to walk with. He was, however, dressed regally, in colors of rich blue and pure ivory. If she had to wager, she would put all of her money on every single the governor had on was custom made. Even the shoes.
“Yes,” Nick said with a nod.
“And you rescued him, is that it?”
“How could you possibly know that?” Adele asked, slowly raising an eyebrow.
“Well, you and your captain have not been arrested for piracy, despite being on Port Haven, probably the most law-abiding port in The Underworld,” the governor replied. He rested both hands on his walking stick, looking among his audience. “Watson, too, holds the law in high regard. For him to have forgone arresting you must have meant you had done something to warrant being free.”
“We heard about the destruction of the Fearless a week ago,” the commodore added, shifting his eyes from the governor to Nick. “We thought there were no survivors.”
“And when Watson appeared, we believed that he had to have been rescued,” the governor concluded. “What we were not prepared for is the fact that he was rescued by pirates, and not just any pirates, but the most wanted, most notorious pirate crew in The Underworld.”
Remy gave Nick a look that asked just what deeds he had to have participated in in order to receive such an esteemed reputation among the souls currently occupying The Underworld. Nick either ignored the look or simply did not see it, though he did appear rather proud at the governor’s apt description of his dealings.
“Yes, well,” Nick said with a smile, his gold canines sparkling, “expect the unexpected, I always say. I like to keep you on your toes and all that.”
The governor and the commodore shared a look.
“You do have a paper signed by Lieutenant Watson temporarily forgoing your arrest, yes?” the governor inquired.
Nick nodded and reached into his jacket, pulling out the rolled parchment. He handed it to the governor for inspection.
As the governor unrolled the rather wrinkled and slightly damp parchment, Nick continued. “I’ve learned just who the culprit behind the attack is and I would like your permission – and what I mean by permission is that you won’t interfere, attack my ship, or attempt to arrest me – to go after this man and ensure that he does not attack any other innocent ship again.”
“You know who the captain
of this so-called ghost ship is?” the governor asked, looking up from the parchment.
“How?” Commodore Davenport asked.
“Let’s just say I have friends in high places,” Nick answered. He frowned. “Although, traditionally speaking, this particular friend might come from a low place, really.”
“I don’t think so.” Commodore Davenport turned to face the governor. “Governor, Captain Grey is trying to trick you in order to get your approval to go gallivanting around The Underworld without worrying about any sort of arrest or consequences for his action.”
“That very well may be,” the governor said, “but it does not explain why Captain Grey chose to rescue Lieutenant Watson even when he could have left him to drown.” He turned his focus back on Nick. “What is in it for you?”
“This man,” Nick managed to say, his voice suddenly tight with attempted control, “is not just attacking the Guard, but innocent people, wealthy and poor, merchant and pirate alike. No ship sailing on the water is safe with this ghost ship sailing around as well.”
“And you feel that the right thing to do is to take care of the problem yourself?” The governor allowed the corner of his lip to twitch up. “Captain Grey, I was not born yesterday as you can see. You may have redeemed a fraction of your reputation by rescuing Lieutenant Watson, but I know there is more to this tale than you’re telling at present. Which means I cannot help you. This document” – he raised the parchment guaranteeing the crew’s freedom – “will remain in effect until you leave this island. However, once you do leave, you will be fair game for the Guard, just as this phantom is.”
The Neverland Trilogy Box Set Page 18