Brooke sighed but left the window open in hopes that he might visit her again during the night. She was about to change into her nightly attire when she remembered that she had divulged her hiding place to Captain Colt of where her jewels were. She walked over to her oak chest and opened it, and then pulled out the small box from inside the chest where her jewels were kept. When she opened it, she was surprised at the number of jewels that remained. In fact, it seemed that not one piece of jewelry was missing except…
“Where is my heart?” she asked aloud to nobody in particular. Her own heart began to race as she looked through her jewelry box again, thinking she might not have seen it, but upon looking through them a second time, she did not find it. “He would not take it,” she tried to rationalize to herself, going through her jewelry once again. “I specifically told him not to take the rubies and emeralds. He would not take it!” But her third search resulted in nothing being found.
“Blasted pirates!” she exclaimed softly to herself and stood up. Her eyes began to glisten and her face turned red from frustration. She tried to calm herself down by breathing slowly, but it came out shaky instead.
Out of all the rubies and emeralds, he took her favorite one.
Brooke’s frustration quickly turned to anger at Charlie Colt. She had to get that necklace back. She went over to her bedroom door and locked it so that no one could come in and find her missing. Afterward, she made her way over to her open window, and walked out onto the balcony and over to a thick, adjacent tree branch. Without thinking, Brooke climbed off the ledge of the balcony and onto the branch, and within a few moments, she had climbed down the tree and, after she made sure there were no guards around, slipped silently off of her father’s property. She did not stop until she reached the docks, and panted a bit, her cheeks pinched with the bitter cold.
“Now what do I do?” she asked herself. She looked up at the full moon thoughtfully. As she caught her breath, the cold began to overtake her, and she rubbed her arms with her hands to rid herself of her prickling goose bumps.
Brooke knew that if Captain Colt was still anywhere, he would be downtown. Downtown was incredibly rowdy at night, and it was a place any pirate would go when he did not wish to go to bed. She gulped as she started walking in the direction of her destination, slightly regretting her decision to be walking by herself at night. Her legs were beginning to get sore and she knew she would catch a cold within the next couple of days.
By the time she reached downtown, she nearly collapsed. People were littering the street, be it the homeless, the whores, and the drunks. As she walked, she received stares and catcalls. She stared at a man directly, who just smiled at her, making her feel all the more uncomfortable. She wanted to ask someone where Charlie Colt was but decided against it. She stopped in front of a scrag and went in against her better judgment. If he was not here, then she would give up and return home.
The scrag was crowded and noisy. Whores were scattered everywhere like flies drawn to honey. Men were sitting at tables drinking and laughing with each other. A couple of men were playing instruments, giving the crowd a form of entertainment. Brooke had never seen anything like it before and was stunned into standing.
“Are ye lost, missy?” a low voice asked from behind her.
Brooke jumped, and then turned, meeting the eyes of a relatively tall man who was quite big as well. He had a dark glimmer in his light eyes. She stuttered a bit, intimidated by him and his stature, before finally managing to say, “I am looking for Captain Charlie Colt.”
He stepped toward her, blocking her whole body from view, and smiled at her. A shiver slid down her back, and she gulped. She never wanted to return home more than she did at that moment.
“Wha’ do ye want with ’im?” he asked her, but before she could answer his question, he continued. “He’s not here, but I would love to be of service ter ye.” He took another step towards her.
“Actually, I think I shall return home now,” she said, stumbling over her words, wanting to leave the scrag as fast as she could. “I thank you kindly for your offered assistance.”
Brooke turned to leave but was stopped by the man, who grabbed her arm and jerked her toward him. “Where’re ye goin’?” he asked her in a teasing tone. “Ye ’aven’t even found Colt!”
“Actually,” a voice interjected, “there is no need to be finding someone who is already found.”
Brooke turned sharply, and then there was Charlie, his cutlass pointing at the man’s neck. His kohl-rimmed eyes were narrowed, the mischievous glint gone from his them. For a moment, Brooke forgot her anger toward him and felt herself get a tad intimidated.
“Release her,” Charlie commanded, his voice low, his eyes never wavering.
Brooke thought the man gripping her arm would not let go of her due to the fact that he was taller and much bigger than Charlie was. Surprisingly, however, the man released her, casting a glare at Charlie before turning around and disappearing into the crowd.
Once Brooke could no longer see the man, she turned to face Charlie, who was looking at his fingernails with a slight grimace. He shifted, flicking his wrist, and faced Brooke with an expectant look on his face. “I believe thanks are in order,” he said, looking down at her.
“For stealing my necklace that I specifically stated not to take?!” Brooke asked, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “It is your fault that I came down here by myself, I will most certainly catch a cold, and who knows what that man would have done to me if you had not shown up?!” She rubbed her arm where the man had grabbed her to emphasize her point.
“Actually, I was going to go along the lines of saving your pretty little hide,” he replied with a wink.
“My necklace, please,” Brooke said, sticking her hand out and waiting for him to place her jewel in it.
“I have no clue as to what you are talking about,” Charlie said, looking back down at his fingernails.
“You know exactly what I am talking about Captain Colt,” Brooke said, her voice dangerously low. “You stole my jewel!”
“Technically, you gave me permission to take your jewels,” Charlie replied, extending both index fingers to the sky. “Ergo, I did not steal it; you gave it to me.”
“I gave you strict specifications not to take my rubies or my emeralds,” she replied, narrowing her eyes at him.
“No,” Charlie replied and began to make his way back over to his table, with Brooke trailing behind him.
Brooke could not believe the arrogance of a man who had so recently charmed her. She continued to follow him until he plopped back down at his table. She noticed Heath was there, along with many other men she assumed were from his crew. When a whore sat down on Charlie’s lap, he grinned at her, causing Brooke to turn away in disgust.
“Give it back,” Brooke said through gritted teeth.
“Miss Cunningham?” Heath asked, looking up at her. “What are you doing at a place like this?”
Brooke was getting tired, her whole body was sore, and the smoke from the scrag was giving her a headache. She just wanted to go to bed, but she wanted her jewel back as well. Ignoring Heath, she glanced around the room and just decided to leave. The jewel would be hard to part with, but she did not wish to remain in here any longer. Without another word, she left the table, left the group of pirates, and left Charlie staring at her as she walked through the people and out the door. Groaning, he got up with little focus to the whore on his lap and followed her out the door. He saw Brooke walking as swiftly as she could, but with a few strides, Charlie caught up with her. He could see she was obviously cold and took off his large trench coat. He tried to wrap the coat around her shoulders, but she pressed forward so he was unable to do so. Charlie chuckled quietly, and then caught up with her once again.
“Leave me alone,” she muttered, her breath showing up as a white silhouette in the black night. “Keep the jewel, just leave me alone.”
“I have never received that command from
a lady before,” Charlie told her, walking in pace with her. He stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets, his trench coat over his shoulder. “At least put on the coat so you cannot blame the cold you might catch on me.”
“You are too late,” she said.
“I am never too late,” Charlie said, grabbing the coat, and attempting to put it over Brooke’s shoulders again.
This time, however, Brooke did not refuse him. Her face was still set, but she let Charlie drape the coat over her, instantly feeling warm. It smelt of the sea with a hint of rum and something else that must solely belong to him. She inhaled deeply, hoping never to forget the scent for as long as she lived.
“Why are you following me, Captain Colt?” she asked Charlie, looking up at him. It was hard to make him out when he was immersed in such a dark surrounding, but she could see the outline of him, and felt comfort because of that.
“I am not following you, sweetheart,” he replied, glancing down at her. “We just happened to be going in the same direction at the same time in the same place. Funny how the world works, isn’t it?”
“Are you going to return me my necklace?” she asked him.
“I do not plan to, no,” he told her, surprising even himself at his honesty. “It is such a pretty necklace that I shall like to keep it for myself.”
“Unless you have a woman to give that to, why would you keep it?” she asked him.
“Oh, I am sure I could find someone to give that to,” he said, meeting her eyes.
“Give it back to is more like it,” she murmured, her eyes shifting back to the road, trying to make out where they were going. And yet, even as she said this, she could not help but smile a small smile.
The walk home was rather silent, but there was no tension that pierced the cold air. The pair seemed at ease with the other’s presence, despite that they had just met a few hours before (discounting their first meeting, of course, ten years ago). Charlie began to whistle a tune, and once the melody wrapped itself around Brooke’s mind she began to hum along with him. Charlie glanced down at her, smiling through his whistling, his tone clear and strong. It would have been interesting if someone had overheard them; a light hum paired with a strong whistle did not essentially go together, but they made it work.
Brooke was disappointed when her house came into view. The pair slowed down their steps until they came to a full stop. Both stared at the towering home.
Brooke looked up at Charlie, studying his profile in the night. “Are you going to say goodbye to me this time?” she asked him.
Even in the dark night, he could see her eyes; they reminded him of the changing ocean, changing colors that reflected her mood. He pursed his lips together in thought and then shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I only say goodbye to people who I plan on never seeing again.” With those words, he turned and left Brooke alone in the night, still wearing his long trench coat, and he still with her necklace.
Brooke did not know whether to be offended at Charlie’s abrupt departure or smile at the words he spoke. She walked over to the tree outside her room and climbed it as quick as she could. After she climbed over her balcony and entered her room, she changed into her nightly attire and then slipped back into Charlie’s trench coat. She crawled underneath her covers and then glanced back out at the full moon, hoping Charlie was somewhere safe. The scent radiating from the trench coat filled her senses and softly lulled her to sleep.
The dashing pirate captain had left the young girl abruptly but did not go far. He hid behind a thick tree, his body fully covered save for his head, which he craned around to make sure Brooke made it into her room without incident. He watched her climb into her room and waited a moment after that to be sure everything was all right. Afterward, he began to make his way back downtown, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He had left her with his trench coat on purpose, and now they both had an item belonging to the other. He had now made it fair that he had not returned her necklace.
When he entered The Bloody Mistake, the majority of his crew had dispersed into the night, leaving a few crewmen, as well as a handful of women. He was getting tired, but not tired enough to go to bed by himself. He selected the best-looking prostitute and led her to his usual room, where they proceeded to go at it. Of course, the phrase “make love” was never used to coin what Charlie chose to do with the women of the night, and “fuck” was too crude, even for him. He did like to believe he had some class in him.
As Charlie and the woman explored each other, flashes of Brooke entered his mind. The first time it happened, it caused him to pause for a moment because nothing like that had ever happened to him before. Another woman’s face had never popped into his head while he was having sex with somebody else. It just did not happen. And yet it did and proceeded to do so. The woman in his arms had jet black hair, and yet, as Charlie ran his fingers through the strands, they were a golden blonde color. When he looked into the woman’s sapphire-blue eyes, he saw the sea. When he caressed her pale skin, he saw a smooth tan and even an array of freckles on her face. He was not having sex with this prostitute, he was having sex with Brooke. When he climaxed, he immediately rolled off the woman and glanced out the window, up at the full moon. He was indeed satisfied with his conquest, and yet he could not help but wonder if it would be better to be with the real thing.
3
Brooke woke up to the bright sun shining through her open windows. As she climbed out of her luxurious bed, she walked out onto her balcony, her bare feet padding along, and the sun warming her skin. The light blue sky was painted with puffy, white clouds that cast shade upon the small town of the Port Royal. Her balcony gave her a view of the docks and the sparkling sea. She leaned on the railing of the balcony, her sea-green eyes scanning the docks as if trying to find Captain Colt’s ship. Where was the black flag with the broken red hearts, and the white crossbones underneath?
Of course, he would not have his jolly roger out now, she thought to herself.
The waves of the ocean hit the bank of the shore and then rolled back, only to crash on the sand once again. Downtown seemed to still be asleep despite the sun’s beckoning call. Brooke turned from the balcony, and headed back into her room, wondering if Captain Colt was still on the tiny island or if he had left…or if he was merely a dream.
After Brooke changed into a light blue dress and Liz skillfully tied her corset together, Brooke walked down the grand staircase and into the dining room. She was waiting for her father, the two of them going to visit Governor Radcliffe and his family for tea. Her stomach rumbled in hunger, and after a moment of restraining herself, she reached over to the bowl and grabbed one of the offered red apples. As soon as she bit into the juicy fruit, her father walked in to meet her, finely dressed.
“Ready to go, my dear?” he greeted, smiling at his daughter warmly.
Brooke nodded, taking another bite of the apple before getting up and walking over to her father. She slipped her arm in through his while holding onto the apple with her other hand. Master Cunningham led her out of the house and to the waiting carriage. Brooke smiled fondly at the two spotted horses before stepping into the open carriage. Her father followed her closely behind, and once the door shut securely behind them and everyone was settled, the carriage took off.
Brooke leaned her head against the cool side of the carriage, her eyes crawling over to the side so she could gaze at the beautiful scenery that passed her by. Governor Radcliffe lived on top of a cliff in Port Royal, and anyone who visited the family would be treated to green grass, colorful flowers that stretched up to the sky, and tall trees that provided shade for any wanderers. A small stream ran along the curve of the hill, the blue water mirroring the opposing blue sky. It did not sparkle as the ocean did, but it was so clear that one could see the fish that resided in it. The horses’ hooves pounded the trail, sending dust to scatter up in the air as they made their way upward to the Radcliffe Mansion.
Once the carriage reached the Governor�
��s home, the horses came to a trot before finally stopping in front of the home. The driver hopped down from his seat and opened the door for his passengers. Master Cunningham got out first and then escorted his daughter into the house. Two stable boys, each with a pail of water, dashed over to give the horses something to drink before leading them to the mansion to the stables where there was shade and food for them, as well as a place that provided the horses shelter. Brooke smiled at the boys, and then at two butlers who seemed to have been waiting for them. Both of the butlers were holding the grand, white doors open for their guests, returning Brooke’s kind smile.
As soon as the Cunninghams entered, the butlers shut the doors securely and then led the father and daughter into the front room where the governor himself was sitting, waiting, and sipping his tea. When he saw that his guests had arrived, he put the tea down on his table and stood up, a big smile on his pudgy face.
Governor James Radcliffe was as tall as he was thick. He had beady dark eyes and a long, pointed nose. One wouldn’t consider him attractive until he smiled, and then women were dazzled. Although he was married, he had been known to dabble in the payment for pleasure. Only his closest confidantes knew about his secret, and Master Cunningham was the closest.
“Brooke!” he exclaimed in a low, burly voice. His arms were outstretched and Brooke walked into them, hugging the governor as he hugged her. “You look bigger and bigger every day!” He took a step back to look at her, but his hands still squeezed her shoulders in emphasis. “My, you look beautiful. How odd that you are not married yet!”
“She has met a potential prospect,” Master Cunningham interjected with a smile. Governor Radcliffe released Brooke so he could give his full attention to her father. “A young merchant—a young, wealthy merchant. He is supposed to dine with us in two days’ time.”
To Marry A Marauder Page 4