Charlie cursed the heavens above for the unscheduled rainfall. He was merely in a small boat and could not simply go to shelter as his previous ship allowed. His impatience only grew and grew for every wave that seemed to push his ship away from his desired destination. Every drop represented the tears Brooke would cry because Charlie was not there to rescue his companion.
Was she being married right now? Would he be too late? He hoped to God not. Grace suggested an early departure in case it rained. Charlie told her rain would not fall, but alas, he was wrong, and he silently thanked Grace for making him go.
Charlie was fully changed into the priest’s uniform as soon as his boat docked. He had taken the liberty to temporarily borrow Grace’s boat without actually fully telling her, merely mentioning it in passing. He had every intention of returning it once Brooke was safe and sound with him, and he knew Grace could never stay mad at him, so he was not necessarily worried about getting found out. Charlie had combed his shaggy brown hair back and shaved the whiskers around his mustache and a patch of hair on his chin. The kohl around his eyes was washed away completely, and the uniform he wore hid his dirty tunic and worn breeches. The only article of clothing that was showing that related back to the pirate captain was his worn brown boots. They were mostly covered by the long, black robes.
When Charlie docked, he charmingly asked the dock master to refer him to the wedding of Lord Sutherland and Miss Brooke Cunningham. The dock master eagerly obliged, and after Charlie received all the necessary information, he thanked the older man, blessed him, and made his way toward the Cunningham residence.
As he walked toward the mansion, thoughts began to flood his mind much like this rain hitting the small town hard. What if she actually fell in love with Sutherland? What if she had fallen in love with someone else? What if she didn’t want to be rescued and Charlie was risking himself for nothing? But it didn’t matter. He would show up just in case. There would be millions of reasons why this was going to fail, whether it was getting caught or that Brooke had completely changed her mind and did not want to leave Port Royal. He would take the chance, however. He would fulfill his promise, no matter the ending result.
The sky was dark, and the only way Charlie could make his way through the town was the dim light from the houses and shops. Voices increased, noise increased, music increased… Was Charlie too late? No, no, they couldn’t start the wedding without him. He was nearly as important as the bride or groom. He began to quicken his pace, feeling himself get wetter and wetter as the drops increased. Lightning flashed and he looked up. A figure in a window caught his eyes; all he could see was a white dress but in that moment, he knew that was her. That was Brooke. He quickened his pace to a light jog, and as thunder crashed around him, echoing throughout the town, he was dashing. He did not know why he was in such desperate need to see her at that moment, but he needed to. He needed to hold her in his arms, to take her away from this horrible captivity. And then it would be the two of them, as it was when they were stranded on the island.
Charlie hurried as fast as he could to the home, but by the time he walked through the door, he was soaked to the bone. A sneeze escaped from him, indicating his presence. Heads turned; everyone who lived in Port Royal seemed to be there.
“Father Barbarey!” Master Cunningham exclaimed. “You are here!”
“The wedding can finally begin,” Lord Sutherland put in, glaring at Charlie.
“I realize I am late, and I do apologize for my tardiness,” Charlie said. “However, before we start this here shindig, do you mind if I dry off a bit so I do not catch a deathly cold?”
The thunder sounded then, echoing through the small town. It caused most of the guests to jump, and some even let out a scream of surprise.
“We have been waiting for quite a while for you to show up,” Sutherland calmly pointed out.
“So then what’s another five minutes?” Charlie continued and then sneezed once again.
“God bless you, Father!” a guest exclaimed.
“And you as well,” Charlie said with a smirk. Before Sutherland could respond to Charlie’s inquiries, the faux-Father placed his hands together in a manner of prayer. “I do thank you kindly, sir. You’re a doll!”
Then, before Sutherland could protest, Charlie disappeared up the stairs.
“Is anything the matter, Lord Sutherland?” Master Cunningham asked the man with surprise.
Lord Sutherland was still staring off after Charlie.
“Nothing,” he murmured, and then turned to look at the wealthy rice farmer. “I just have never seen a Father with two gold teeth.”
Charlie knew exactly where Brooke’s room was. He didn’t waste time with knocking, he simply opened the door and stepped in. Brooke’s head turned to see who it was, and her mouth dropped when she recognized who it was. Upon first glance, Charlie Colt did not look like the dashing pirate captain that he was; he looked like a Catholic priest. But Brooke recognized his nose, one of her favorite parts of him, and knew that beneath the robes, Charlie Colt had fulfilled his promise and had come to rescue her.
Charlie took in the sight of Brooke. She was beautiful, but he preferred her when her face was not made up. Here, she appeared to be wearing a mask, hiding under the layers of paint that decorated her face.
“Well, you look…interesting,” he said with a smirk.
Brooke suppressed a grin as she walked towards him. When she got within a foot from him, she stopped and tilted her head to the side, taking him in. He was really there before her.
“Is that a compliment, Captain Colt?” she asked him softly.
“Take it as you will,” he said, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her.
“Then I take it as a compliment,” she said with a dazzling smile. Her smile slipped from her face as thunder crashed around the mansion. “You actually came,” she murmured.
“I told you I would,” Charlie said.
“I know…but,” she said, and then finally looked him up and down. She let out a low chuckle. “You realize you are going to Hell for this one, correct?” she asked, gesturing at his outfit.
“Actually, I had the priest’s consent to marry you,” Charlie said, glancing down at his attire. “He even let me borrow the outfit.”
“I still say you lied to a priest,” Brooke said, arching her brow. Oh, that brow. No matter how much Charlie hated it, he was glad he could see it once again.
“Only a little,” Charlie said, squinting his forefinger and thumb so there was only a sliver or space in between them. “I missed that,” he said, motioning to her brow. She lowered it self-consciously. “No matter how much it got on my nerves, I missed that brow.”
“There are so many things I wish to tell you, Charlie,” Brooke murmured back, looking at him as if she needed to say as much as she possibly could at that moment because he might disappear in the blink of an eye.
Charlie pushed his finger to her lips. “Not now, love,” he murmured back. “We will catch up once we’re safe and away from here.” He paused. “And catch up we will.” He glanced around. “Now to get out of here….”
“Actually, I do not think I would be able to move, let alone breathe in this dress if my life depended on it,” Brooke said, motioning to her dress.
“Well, your life does depend on it,” Charlie said. “Is there any way you can slip out of this?”
“I can slip out of the skirts rather quickly,” Brooke said, detaching the skirts that connected to the dress. “But the corset is too tight to undo in mere minutes.” She slid down the skirts so the bottom half of her undergown was showing.
Charlie thought quickly. “Please forgive me for this,” he told her, reaching underneath his robe so his hand connected with the hilt of his dagger on his belt. He whipped it out and slid the dagger down the middle of Brooke’s corset so it fell into pieces on the floor.
Brooke looked at him in surprise. She was standing there merely in her undergown. An idea suddenly poppe
d into her head and she quickly grabbed the trench coat he had given her so long ago, and slipped it on.
“Anything else you need?” Charlie asked impatiently.
Brooke rolled her eyes and grabbed Charlie’s hand and led him toward the window. The trusted tree was still sturdy, however wet it might be. She jumped from the sill to the branch, and Charlie followed suit, without question. Brooke was so grateful she was wearing flats instead of heels, and she managed to maintain her balance until she came in contact with the trunk. From there, she stepped on a lower branch, still holding onto the trunk, and then made her way to the ground. Her hair was now a mess, along with her face, and after Charlie landed next to her, Brooke followed him to the docks. She was free, finally free. Three months of waiting and Charlie did not let her down.
They managed to slip by the dock master, who was trying to get salvage from the storm. “We are never going to get out of here,” Brooke said. “The storm’s too rough.” She wondered if her wedding audience realized that the bride and priest had run away together.
“Well, we can’t stay here…” Charlie said, rolling his eyes and glancing about. Perfect, this was just perfect. He knew something would end up going wrong. A perfect, flawless plan and a flaw managed to show up.
Brooke thought for a minute. “I know where we can stay the night,” she said, and with that, she grabbed Charlie’s hand and led him back into town. “No one will find us. It would be like we were never here.” Luckily, the storm had caused people to go inside and close shop early, and the dark blanketed them. No one was looking at all.
“Love, this is just me,” Charlie began, letting Brooke drag him through the empty town, “but they will soon be looking for you. Why are we heading back to town?”
Brooke stopped and looked back at him imploringly, her eyes trying to read his. “Do you trust me, Captain?” she asked him seriously.
Charlie smiled knowingly. “Yes,” he told her genuinely.
“Okay,” Brooke said. “I know where we can stay.”
The storm looked like it would never cease as Brooke led Charlie to the outskirts of town. Brooke had been to this house many times, but Charlie had no idea where he was going. Brooke seemed sure of herself, so he went along with her, without question although he worried nonetheless. She had been where they were going many times, Charlie noticed, for they hadn’t tripped over spare roots or bushes nor had they gotten lost as they made their way towards their destination. Charlie smiled at the thought. At least Brooke had some sort of sanctuary these past few months, somewhere she could run to if she needed to get away from the pressures of the town, away from the life she was forced to live. She stopped in front of a small, isolated house with smoke coming out of its small chimney, catching her breath and glancing at Charlie.
“Is this piece of property…abandoned, love?” Charlie asked, quirking a brow and desperately wanting to get out of the harsh rain, yet at the same time, he did not want to run into a house that was occupied. If anything, he wanted to go back to sea, but that was, at this time, improbable.
“Not exactly,” she said, pulling Charlie along with her into the house. “A friend of mine lives here.” She closed the door just as thunder crashed. She studied Charlie, who had just sneezed, and raised a brow. Was Charlie getting sick? She wouldn’t doubt it; he’s been in the rain much longer than she had. “Get out of those clothes, Charlie. I’m going to run you a hot bath.”
“Well, love,” Charlie said, smiling seductively. “I didn’t know how anxious you were to make up for lost time.”
Brooke arched a steady brow but didn’t banter with him. This was not the time to. She hoped Joel wouldn’t get mad at her unexpected visit, especially with a strange male companion. Afraid of Joel’s reaction when he laid eyes on Charlie, she wondered whether or not to tell Joel the truth, that Charlie was a pirate and that she was really his companion. She was afraid, however, because of how deeply Joel hated pirates and anyone even remotely associated with them. Sighing, she made her way into the master bedroom and grabbed a spare tunic and slacks, and put them in the washroom. Then, she began to warm cold water over the fire, in hopes that the water would warm quickly and that Charlie could warm up as quickly as possible. Once the fire was burning enough, and the water was securely over it, Brooke grabbed a blanket from the spare bedroom and gave it to a sitting Charlie, who was intently staring at the embers flicker. He glanced up when he saw Brooke place it tightly around him, watching her with curious eyes. She certainly knew her way around the house, what to do, and where to get certain things.
This house had better belong to a female, he thought, and without warning, Charlie sneezed.
“Excuse me,” he said, slightly embarrassed.
Brooke grinned at him. “Bless you, Father,” she jested lightly.
Charlie rolled his eyes but grinned at her anyways. “Well, you’re just a real comedian, love,” he said dryly.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and Charlie leaped up, throwing the blanket aside and pushing Brooke behind him in a manner of protection. His eyes narrowed when he saw a man walk through the doorway. Joel’s eyes met Charlie’s and he pushed his brows together in confusion, anger. He was desperately trying to come up with some sort of quick scheme to defend himself from this intruder. Before he could put anything into effect, however, Brooke managed to weasel herself around Charlie’s body and run into the man’s arms.
“Oh, Joel,” she murmured.
“Brooke, what’s wrong?” Joel asked, holding her and glaring at the stranger at the same time. “Did he hurt you?”
“I saved her,” Charlie corrected, deathly low. “I would never hurt a lady, especially such a fine one as this.”
“Did he take you away from your marriage?” Joel asked, releasing Brooke to look into her eyes. “Did he kidnap you? Was he the one who took you away a few months ago?”
Brooke shook her head. “How many times do I have to tell you, Joel? Charlie did not kidnap me.” Her eyes pleaded with his blue ones to believe her. “Charlie saved me. It is true; I did run away from the marriage. I do not love Lord Sutherland, Joel. Please, try to understand.” Her eyes welled up with tears, and she didn’t know why. “Just imagine being forced to marry anyone but Fiona.”
Joel glared at the priest and rubbed Brooke’s back soothingly. Charlie looked away, out the window, into the pouring storm.
“Brooke, who is this?” Joel asked. “Why aren’t you marrying Lord Sutherland right now? I still do not understand. Is this man your Fiona? Is this what you’re trying to say?”
Brooke shook her head and pulled away, going over to stand next to Charlie, who, after this action, grinned triumphantly at the younger man. Brooke took in a deep breath. It was now or never. Joel should know the truth. He wouldn’t really throw away years of friendship if he knew the circumstances, right?
“Joel, listen, this is my companion, Captain Charlie Colt,” she said, introducing him to her pirate friend.
“Love, do you really think that you should be telling him this?” Charlie asked suspiciously, still staring at Joel. He was rubbing her back in a manner of comfort; he could feel how tense, how nervous she was for doing this.
Brooke rolled her eyes as she went to go fetch the hot water and move it to the bath, breaking away from Charlie’s touch and Joel’s stare. She hated disappointing people, and with the two most important men before her, one was going to be disappointed. But she couldn’t go on lying to Joel because he didn’t deserve being lied to. He had never lied to her.
“Oh Charlie, he’s my best friend,” Brooke explained from the bathing room. “I can tell him anything.”
“Am I not your best friend?” Charlie asked, trying to mask being offended and maybe even slightly envious at how casually she threw around the “best friend” title.
“Of course you are,” Brooke said as Charlie sneezed again.
“Here, let me help you with that, Brooke,” Joel said and went into the bathing room to gra
b the hot water from her.
“I can help her,” Charlie interjected, going to grab the hot water from Joel.
“Charlie, go sit down,” Brooke said firmly. “Stay by the fire, and how many times must I tell you to get out of those clothes?”
Charlie winked at Joel. “This is a request she always seems to desire from me,” he said, playfully. “And I, being her best friend, would never reject her desires.”
Joel glanced questioningly at Brooke, and Brooke threw a towel at Charlie, hitting him on his face. She followed Joel into the washroom, Charlie’s eyes on the pair the whole way. Joel was carrying the hot water, wondering why, exactly, Brooke was with this man, this Father? No, no, he was a captain or something. But of what, he had no idea. All he knew was that Brooke had left her wedding and currently was in his house, in merely her undergown, her face hidden underneath ruined makeup, and was accompanied by her recent abductor. The circumstances were suspicious, and Joel wanted to come to the conclusion of it all. But first, he wanted to make sure Brooke was taken care of.
“Why don’t you take the first bath?” Joel asked her. “You need it much more than the Father…or captain. Whatever he is.”
Brooke shook her head. “No, Charlie needs it more,” Brooke told her close friend. “He’s getting sick. He needs to warm up.”
Joel looked like he was about to disagree with her, but the look on her face warned him not to. There was much to discuss with Brooke, anyway, and he didn’t need this stranger to keep interrupting with territorial banter or sexual innuendos. Why would Brooke associate herself with someone who was not a proper gentleman? She was much better than this man. Joel was dumbfounded. Years of friendship and Brooke never told him of this man. Was she being kidnapped by him? No, he didn’t believe that. She seemed too comfortable around him, and why would they end up at his house? No, no, Brooke knew this man, and from where Joel was about to find out.
“Charlie!” she called from behind her. “Strip and get into the bath!”
To Marry A Marauder Page 13