Oh, bother. Did I like him? Did I get so mad at Brandy because I was jealous? No. Why would I be? My heart stopped beating in my chest for a moment. Maybe I did like him. A little. Looking at my painting of his coat I remembered the way he smelled, and my replica of the very sword which freed me from my captor reminded me how safe I felt beside him. Then I eyed my painting of his Sunrise sailing in. At that very moment, I felt that I wanted him to come back. But why?
Putting on the nightgown Adaline had given to me, I lay in bed and snuggled my cat. “It is stupid to think such things. First of all, he probably isn’t coming back. There are a million women in the world after him and there is no reason he would want me among them. And even if for some crazy reason he did want to return, I don’t want to live a life full of liquor and whore-ridden pirate parties. Plus, his profession is just so dangerous. There are so many things that could go wrong. And for me, the worst will always happen.”
Rubbing my warm nose on Feather’s cold, wet one, I sighed, “There will be no happy endings for us, my friend. The Ocean Eye Witch and her Feather Tail Cat will forever be lonely together.”
X
“Hannah, can I come in? It’s me, Brandy.” It had been two days since I had yelled at her, and I’d not seen her since. Which was fine with me.
“Please let me in, I want to apologize,” she pleaded.
How can we expect God to forgive us for our sins if we do not forgive the sins of others, I reminded myself before I opened the door. “Hello, Brandy.”
“Can I come in?” She flashed an apologetic smile.
“Yes, of course you can.”
“Looking around, she stated, “It’s so nice in here. Adaline must like you a bunch.”
“She only gave me this room because she likes Mason so much.” I answered her comment quickly, not thinking about the fact that he was the root of our differences.
“Aye, uh, that’s what I came to talk about. I can get a bit out of hand when I drink, and that’s why I’m quitting, again.” She scratched her ratty brown hair. “In the morning, I remembered you yelling at me and stomping off, and as my thoughts returned I remembered saying something rude about him. I heard that you’re his lady, and I didn’t mean—”
“I am not his lady.” I held my hand up to stop her. “We are only friends. I was just offended by the foul way you were talking.”
Her sharp little jaw dropped. “You’re not his lady? Why does everyone think you are?”
I rolled my eyes. “Because he said so with that big fat mouth of his. But in truth, he never even asked me.”
“Do you think he’ll ask you when he comes back?”
“I don’t even know if he is coming back.”
“Well, what if he does, and what if he asks you then? What will you say?”
“Then I will say no. Now, did you come in here to badger me about my barren love life?”
“No, I’m sorry. I’m just so intrigued by you. I don’t know why. I just want to talk with you more.” She looked around at my wall of artwork. “And your paintings. They’re so good.”
“Thank you. Lady Smith is paying me to paint this view of the harbor for her.” I showed her the piece I was currently working on.
Eyeing the unfinished scene, Brandy’s narrow eyes widened. “It looks so real!”
“Oh, I still need to work on the lighting and the water…”
“So, is that what you do all day while you’re hiding in here?”
Annoyed by her interest in my schedule, I squinted. “Mostly. But I draw and read, too, and every morning I do a little fight training.”
“You know how to fight?!”
“Yes. Mason taught me some things—”
“Mason Bentley taught you how to fight? Whoa, you must be so tough. Do you cut off your captive’s body parts like he does?”
Thinking of the way he chuckled when I asked him about that, I did my best to resist the laughter rising in my gut and hummed, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to.”
Chapter 9
Feather in the Wind
Brandy kept me company as the months passed. I liked her when she was sober, and was glad she had put her drunken ways aside. Neither of us knew how long we would be here, and my stay—which I was already enjoying greatly—became more of a good time with a friend to share it with.
Though I preferred to be alone when I painted in the afternoons, Brandy joined me each morning for fight lessons. Knowing that her husband slapped her around as he did, I was happy to teach her what I knew so she could defend herself. Plus, training was far more effective with a partner.
In exchange for the lessons, Brandy had taught me to sew. While sitting with her on my veranda this evening, I worked on a patchwork sash.
“Who are you making that for?” she asked, as I added a piece of blue fabric.
“Oh, uh, I’m…” Bypassing my reflex to lie, I told my friend the truth. “I am making it for Mason.” Feeling my cheeks heat up, I kept my face down as I explained, “He did so many nice things for me, I’d like to give him something in return. As a thank you. If he ever does come back.”
“With a girl like you awaiting him, I know he’ll come back. And I bet he’ll love that sash when he does.” She puffed on her pipe. “It looks like Joseph’s coat of many colors.”
Smiling, I hoped she was right, for I had made every stitch with the utmost care.
“Sewing is fun, but I like painting better. Can you believe I have sold three more?” I changed the subject.
“Of course I can believe it. Your art is amazing, and the one you’re painting for Mister Gregory is absolutely beautiful.”
Mister Gregory owned a booth at the market where he specialized in selling artwork. When Adaline told him about my style he requested one of a ship at sea. “If he likes it, I might be able to paint more for him. In fact, you know I don’t usually paint in the evening, but I need to get that one done. I should probably get to work.”
Knowing that was her queue to go, she happily wished me a good eve. On her way out of the door she said, “See you at the party tonight.”
I had completely forgotten about the party Adaline had planned. Putting my fabrics away, I told Feather I’d probably just stay in and paint, and got to work on Mister Gregory’s painting.
Though I did not write a name on the ship, in my mind, it was Sunrise. Replicating the beauty of that particular ship reminded me of all the reasons Mason told me he loved sailing. From bow to stern he knew her better than some people knew their own shadow. Remembering the passion in his voice when he spoke of her reminded me that I had once loved sailing, as well. Bringing to life the waves caressing the hull and the wind filling the sails soothed my mind like a lullaby. Oh, it was as if I could smell the tar on the deck and feel the mist on my face as I painted. But painting the sea was good enough. It was far too dangerous out there for the likes of me.
Adding a few birds fluttering around the sunlit sails, I said to Feather, “After selling this painting, we will have earned ourselves another month’s stay here.”
He meowed at me, and as he twisted his fluffy tail around my leg, I sighed, “I know, I like it here, too. Maybe we can stay forever. I wouldn’t mind being the mysterious painter who no one sees. In fact…” My mind lit up with a brilliant idea. Dipping my brush in the black paint, I lowered the brush to the right hand corner where I would usually sign my name, and painted a feather instead. “There. No one needs to know about this Hannah girl. From now on, I will mark my art with a feather. Yes, a feather in the wind gracing the world with colors and swirls, but no one truly knows who she is.”
“Sounds kind of witchy,” a familiar voice said from behind the door. A cold chill ran down my spine as I watched the wooden divider open, slowly.
And there he was.
Mason Bentley had come back.
Nearly dropping the brush in my hand, I looked him over with my heart melting in my chest. He was wearing a deep red
coat, lined in fine golden embroidery, and his dark brown breeches looked clean and new. Of course, he was fortified with all the weapons that made up the fearsome reputation he bore, but his eyes were as enchanting as a peaceful meadow combed by a summer breeze.
Dumbstruck to the core, I mumbled like an idiot, “You…you’re so…oh. You shaved your face.”
“I did.” He rubbed his clean shaven cheek. “It got all hot and annoying; just the goatee will do.” He stroked the length of hair which had grown significantly longer over the months, and plopped down on the sofa like he owned the place.
Instantly setting eyes on my painting of his ship, he smiled widely. “Ah, I see you’ve been thinking of me, too?”
Embarrassed as could be, I picked up Feather in an attempt to hide my burning red cheeks. “Well, uh…no. I just…” Then I realized he had said, too. He had also been thinking of me. Oh my, he had come back. For me. Looking at my painting of the moonlit bay, I thought of Thomas and suddenly felt guilty for feeling this way about Mason.
As though he had heard my thoughts, he said, “Deny it all you want, sweetheart, but the writing’s on the wall. Literally.” He chuckled. “So, tell me, how have you liked your stay here?”
Sitting on the chair across from the sofa where he sat, I petted my cat. “It has been very nice. Adaline is a doll, and I made another friend named Brandy.” I rambled on like a jolly little girl, sharing stories about the dinner parties and talks with my friends, and was extra proud to tell him how I had been selling my artwork. “I have sold so many paintings. I will be able to stay here much longer now. You were right about me being able to make something of my artwork. Thank you for giving me that idea.”
“That’s good, Hannah. The best way to make a living is doing what you love.”
“It is. I never thought I would be able to do a thing on my own, and now I have this new confidence. It feels good to have friends and success. If you can call it success.” I suddenly began to doubt myself.
“Success at its finest is being happy with your work.” He smiled. “Not many a men would agree with what I do, but I love it, I’m good at it, and I never go hungry. Hasn’t killed me yet, either.” He winked. “So I consider myself to be a successful man, no matter what anyone else has to say about it.”
Still unsure as to how I felt about his line of work, I shyly inquired, “Did you find the treasure fleet on time?”
“No. Not at all.”
I felt my face droop.
“But we found something else, not better, but better than nothing. My men have heavy pockets and my Esmeralda’s in good shape, so I’d say it was a successful trip after all.”
“Esmerelda?” Betrayal rang in my voice. “What happened to Sunrise?”
“She got all blasted up in a scuffle along the way.” He casually stated the fact with no love lost over the ship I had so delicately painted over the last few months.
“So, you just traded her in?”
He laughed. “If only it was that easy. It was more like this.” Sitting up from his lounged position, he began telling me the story with a fire of passion burning in his vibrant green eyes. “Along the way, Sunrise got raked with a broadside so devastating that half my men went to The Locker with the shattered bits of her hull. With the dreadful remnants of her timbers far beyond the hope of repair, and hardly capable of teetering on the tide, we loaded our limited supplies in a longboat. At that point there were only twenty-five of us left and enough food and water to get us to Tortuga on the brink of starvation.
Drifting on the Caribbean Sea—overly exposed to the dreadful sun—with two dozen hungry sailors is no place you ever want to be. Our food was almost gone, our rotting boat was leaking, and my miserable men were losing hope.
Then, I saw her. A Spanish ship so large and powerful that it strayed freely from the rest of the fleet without apparent concern. Against the wishes of a whining minority, we managed to get our sorry boat close enough to make a stand.”
“Against a massive Spanish ship?” I shrieked in suspense, biting my nails with worry.
“That’s what the whiners said.” He laughed. “But I did wonder myself, what would we do? How could my crew of pathetic sea-vagrants possibly go about taking such a powerful ship?
Deciding that the gamble was worth the risk of dying on our shitten little boat adrift at sea, I declared a state of engagement and took ultimate reign.
Demanding Shark to bore a hole in the bottom of the boat, I told those dogs they’d be fighting to the death or I’d kill them myself. With water streaming in, washing away any chance of retreat, we scampered up Esmeralda’s massive hull and dropped onto her decks. ‘Twas the will to survive fueling our fight, and we quickly overpowered the Spaniards aboard.”
I sat there with my jaw agape. “You did that?”
“Not I, but we. I couldn’t have done shit without my crewmen. We lost one more in the attack, and a couple were injured, but those of us who lived, lived well the rest of the sail.”
“What about Shark, is he all right?”
“Ah, that dastardly rogue is as all right as he’ll ever be.”
“Oh, good. I like Shark. What did you do with the Spaniards?”
“We sent them off in their longboats.”
“Oh? Well, now they are probably drifting at sea, suffering like you were.”
“Unless they’re slick enough to take a ship on their own like we did.” He slapped his knee as he laughed, then reached into his coat pocket. After fumbling for a moment, he pulled a rolled tobacco leaf out of his pocket. “These Spanish cigarros were but one of the many treats we found in Esmerelda’s hold. How about you come out on the veranda with me to watch the sunset while I smoke it?”
There, on the porch where I had subconsciously awaited his return, I stood with him to watch the sky turn from gold to red. As darkness overtook the light, the lanterns in the backyard were lit. Hearing festive sounds rising in the air, I remembered that there was another party tonight. When the band started up, I asked Mason, “Do you want to go down there?”
He looked into my eyes. “No. I just want to stay up here with you.”
I took a step back. “Me? Why?”
He stepped closer. “You’ve been on my mind since I left you here, Hannah. I’ve never had a woman follow me to sea, but like the tide, my memory of you rolled around in my mind day and night. I’ve been thinking about that pretty smile of yours, and those eyes have beamed on my soul like the moon, but mostly, I been thinking about that sassy mouth…”
Frozen stiff where I stood, I couldn’t fight or resist when he took my hands in his. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to. His fingers intertwined with mine, and I was startled by the hard feel of his hands. They were warm, but rough, and so much bigger than mine. Feeling like a tiny flower in the shadow of a massive tree, I looked at his handsome face and stared into his eyes without a word.
“I want you to be my lady, Hannah. Will you make me that lucky?”
My life flashed before my eyes. All of it. The few good things I began with, the horrible things which marred the middle of it, and the recent events which weren’t half bad. Now, here I was, on a beautiful veranda with a warm island breeze blowing through my braids, looking into the eyes of a tall, handsome buccaneer. There was no denying that I loved looking into his emerald green eyes, and I certainly enjoyed the feel of his body next to mine…
As I promised Adaline I would, I considered the offer he was making me. After taking a deep breath, I sighed, “No, Mason. I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“Why not?” I felt his hope deflating as his shoulders drooped.
“Because I am finally all right on my own. I like how things are going and I want to keep doing what I’m doing.”
“Fine.” He let go of my hands.
The beauty of the moment was gone. The breeze that was so warm and enchanting suddenly felt hot and annoying, and the night sky which was mystic and alluring, now just seemed dark.
H
e lit another cigarro. Exhaling the smoke, he said, “Guess I’ll be going to that party.”
Walking into my room, he said over his shoulder, “You look pretty in blue, by the way.”
With that, he was gone.
Shit. What had I done?
With the sound of music and jolly laughter drifting through my opened veranda doors, I paced the floor in a panic. “This is what we wanted, Feather. We discussed this plan so many times, yet now that I have done it, it just doesn’t feel right. I think I hurt his feelings. Do you think he has feelings? I don’t know, either. Judging by the life he lives, I’d imagine emotion is a rare commodity for him, but I swear I saw hurt in his eyes when I said no. I don’t like that. Whatever shall we do?”
I looked at my little cat friend. As usual, he did not answer. “You know I will love you forever mon cher, but now that I have friends who talk, I think I need to run this by one of them. Don’t worry. You will always be my favorite.”
After fixing my braids and ribbons in the mirror, and adding some liner to my eyes, I went downstairs. The party was already in raging, and the house was full from wall to wall. Noticing a few men from Mason’s crew among the group, I looked away from them before anyone would recognize me. Adaline had not mentioned that this party would be bigger than the others, but it certainly was.
Making my way through the crowded dining hall as politely as I could, I was stopped by Lady Smith, who was as drunk as could be. “This is her, she’s the artist.” She put her arm over my shoulder and introduced me to Mister Gregory.
For some reason I had envisioned him being old and grey, but he was young, well-dressed, and handsome as could be.
“Hannah Remington.” His brown eyes glistened as he kissed my knuckles. “Your artwork is simply stunning.”
“Thank you, sir. I am glad you like it.” Though I was feeling emotionally disheveled, I tried to get my wits about me for the sake of business. “Your painting should be done in a day or two.”
Lady Smith wandered off, leaving me alone with the handsome Mister Gregory.
Uncharted Secrets (Uncharted Secrets, Book 1): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories Page 9