“Oh,” Izzy said, reaching up and itching the back of her head, a nervous habit she had picked up when she was younger. “Far away from here. My accent is found in some places in the Americas.”
“Of course,” Marion said.
“So this is the woman Johnny brought in?” the woman in the blue dress asked, her blue eyes enhanced due to the color of the dress. She had a thick Cockney accent.
“Oui,” Marion affirmed. “Ah, Izzy,” she said, trying out the foreign name and after a moment, the woman decided that she liked it. “This is Sarah.” She motioned towards the woman in blue. “And this is Gabriella.” She motioned to the woman with dark eyes, wearing a pink dress.
“How did you meet Johnny?” the woman in pink asked, and based on her accent, Izzy assumed she was from Spain.
“Well,” Izzy said, touching the tip of her finger to the point of her chin. “He was kind of looking at me when I was…indisposed.”
Surprisingly, all three women giggled as though they knew exactly what Izzy was talking about.
“I remember,” Marion said, once they had settled. “I remember Helena Brown, do you not, ladies?” They all giggled once again, and for the next hour, the three women recounted stories of the notorious pirate, including the one regarding Helena Brown. Apparently, he had been walking down the streets of Tortuga when he heard an odd noise.
“He stopped,” Marion continued. “And then he heard it again. Thinking that a woman was calling his attention, he slipped off the majority of his clothes and walked into the home only to find that it was not a woman, but a man with a high-pitched voice. Johnny was so startled, he dropped his clothes. And the man, the man thought Johnny wanted something eh…how you say…sexual with him, and of course he got offended. So Johnny ran out of that house with nearly no clothes on across Tortuga until he reached the House.”
All four women burst into laughter upon hearing this, including Izzy. She found that the stories these women were telling were quite amusing, and knowing Johnny, they probably had plenty more as well.
“Where are we, exactly?” Izzy asked, once the women had desisted from laughing.
“Oh my,” Marion said, her face sobering slightly. “Well, ma cher, you are in a brothel. My brothel.”
28
Izzy blinked once, not exactly sure that she had heard the woman correctly. “I’m sorry,” she said after a long moment, attempting to take everything, but unable to do so fully. “I think I misheard you. Where did you say we were?”
Marion smiled, her blue eyes lighting up with obvious amusement. “Ehm…this is my brothel,” she told Izzy once more, nodding her head once to emphasize the point that she wasn’t kidding.
“Oh.” Izzy paused, not quite sure how to feel about this new turn of events. She was grateful for a place to stay after her painful incident with those pirates from before, but at the same time… How had Johnny known about this place? Was it one of his frequent stops whenever he came to Tortuga? Had he slept with any of the women before her? Any of the women occupying the rooms? Did he have a favorite? Why would he bring her here? Did he not know of some other place somewhere on this island?
Did the kiss mean anything?
The last question popped into Izzy’s head without warning, and she suddenly felt a swirling of pain slide through every nook and cranny of her body. Oddly enough, it had nothing to do with the physical pain, but by something else. Though Izzy wasn’t too damaged to know just where and why that feeling came about, she preferred not to think about at that moment, afraid to admit it even to herself. Instead, she pushed the thought from her mind, not ready to dwell on it quite yet, and tried to keep her face as neutral as it could possibly be.
However, Marion, in her thirty-seven years, was quite perceptive when it came to reading faces. “I see you are troubled,” she said, her accent concerned as her blue eyes pooled into Izzy’s brown ones.
“No,” Izzy immediately denied, shaking her head. “No, it’s not that.” She paused, hoping she could find some way to explain just how she was feeling without offending any of the three women. “I’m just…surprised.” Yes. Perfect word. They couldn’t possibly be offended by that, could they? Izzy decided to elaborate, just in case. “I mean, I’m not exactly sure how long I’ve been unconscious, you know, and out of all places to wake up in…” She let her voice trail off. “I just never expected that it would be at a brothel.”
“Ah,” Marion said, nodding as though she understood where Izzy was coming from. “Yes. I understand. But this brothel is probably one of the safest places on this island. No one comes in or goes out without me knowing, and as I’m sure you probably saw upstairs, there are plenty of rooms for privacy. There is a common misconception about women of the night; all of my girls here, I feel, are like my sisters. They will not harm you or offend you in any way.”
“Oh, I know,” Izzy said, nodding her head a couple of times. “I know. I’m sorry if I’ve said anything to upset you.”
Marion smiled brilliantly, and shook her head. “You haven’t,” she told the young woman. “Eh, before we continue, I should probably call on the cook to get you some food in order to break your fast. You look absolutely famished, my dear, and there would be a riot on my hands if Johnny found out I was letting you starve.” She disappeared out of the kitchen for a moment, before returning shortly with a portly young woman who smiled when she entered, but said nothing more as she started opening cabinets and grabbing different ingredients. Marion’s eyes quickly recognized uncertainty in Izzy’s, and she had a feeling it had to do with the pirate. “You know,” she began, her eyes suddenly serious, “he cares very much for you.”
“It seems to be a miracle,” Gabriella said, not able to keep a dry tone from her voice. Marion shot her a warning look. “What? It is true! Johnny Clover only cares about himself. That’s how it was! When Willow predicted that he would save piracy—”
Izzy blinked once again, unsure of what she just heard. “Um, I’m sorry; excuse me,” she mumbled, interrupting Gabriella, who shot her an affronted look. “Did you say Willow—as in a woman—prophesized the fact that Johnny was going to come here and go into war with the Royal Navy?”
“And win,” Sarah added, her blue eyes just as serious as Marion’s.
“Nobody believed Willow,” Marion said, shaking her head as though it was a shame. “Nobody believes her at first, but somehow, all of her predictions have come to pass.”
“When she told of Johnny disappearing for a while,” Gabriella began, subconsciously twirling a dark curl around her index finger, “nobody really believed that was significant, only because it is common for him to take off and come back.”
“He has no friends,” Sarah explained, her voice naturally softer than her two companions. “No one that would necessarily miss him. Sure, we did. Many of the women here are enamored with the man, but everyone knew Johnny would never settle down. He was too restless, although—”
“But in the span of two months,” Marion continued, shooting Sarah what Izzy interpreted as a warning look. Though Izzy furrowed her brow at the action, she kept her mouth closed. “There were no sightings of him. Usually, one of us here would hear about an exploit or two, whether he was in Singapore, back in England, the Americas…but nobody saw him for two months.”
“And then four nights ago,” Gabriella cut in, her dark eyes slightly suspicious, “he shows up with you in his arms, claiming that you—”
“Are someone important to him,” Marion quickly interjected, before reaching out and patting Izzy on the back of Izzy’s hand. “He has never left your side, ma cher. Although he was offered the room adjacent to yours, he refused, as though he needed to be close to you, to be there when you woke up.”
“He doesn’t care about anybody, really,” Sarah said, and though she was soft-spoken, her blue eyes were blatantly curious. “Except you. Are the two of you—”
Before she could ask her question, Johnny came barging into the kitchen, hi
s dark brown eyes tired with sleep, currently frantic. He opened his mouth, as though to ask Marion a question, when he noticed Izzy glancing back at him over her shoulder. “There you are,” he said, as a sigh of relief slipped out. He all but glared over at Marion as he walked behind Izzy and rested his forearms on the frame of her chair. “You know she shouldn’t be out of bed, Marion. You know she shouldn’t be walking those three flights of stairs.” His eyes captured Izzy’s. “Why are you out of bed? You shouldn’t be out of bed.”
It was hard for Izzy to concentrate on Johnny’s reiteration of his concern because she was distracted by the way he currently looked. His messy hair had fallen into his face, and his chocolate eyes were frantic. He was wearing a tunic that was opened in the front, exposing a nice portion of torso that was hard for Izzy to look away from. It was thoroughly tan, his chest obviously toned, and a happy trail starting just underneath his bellybutton and slipping underneath his pants. He looked quite handsome, standing there. What had he asked again? He sounded almost worried about something?
“How did you get down here anyways?” Johnny asked, not noticing the way she had clearly checked out his sculpted form.
“I walked,” Izzy told him, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Johnny opened his mouth, not too happy about the tone she had used with him, when Marion cut him off, understanding Johnny’s intentions. “She needed to break her fast, Johnny,” she told the pirate. Marion paused for a moment, before suggesting, “Would you like to take a seat?”
The pirate thought about it for a moment, before nodding a couple of times and pulling out the chair next to Izzy’s, taking a seat. His eyes scanned her profile, causing Izzy to blush at his deep scrutiny.
“I know,” she murmured, turning to look him in the eyes. “I know. I look horrible. Please, don’t make any of your comments.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Johnny said, offended that she would even think he would do such a thing. “I just don’t like you looking like this. I feel as though—”
“It’s not your fault,” Izzy assured him, offering him a tired smile.
Johnny carefully placed his hand in the middle of Izzy’s back, resting his elbow on the frame of her chair. “You really should be in bed, darling,” he told her in a low voice. “What if you accidentally harm yourself some more?”
“You’re a pirate,” Izzy said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “How would you feel if you were restricted to merely a bed?”
Marion, Sarah, and Gabriella watched the exchange with such interest. They had never seen a meaningful conversation exchange between Johnny and…anyone really, especially when the conversation wasn’t solely fixed on him.
Before Johnny could comment, however, the cook turned around, and smiled. “Who’s hungry?” she asked.
29
Once breakfast was over, Johnny attempted to persuade Izzy to go back upstairs into their room and get some rest. Actually, persuade was probably an understatement; he insisted quite firmly, even to the point of threatening to pick the young woman up, toss her over his shoulder, and take her there himself. However, Izzy managed to talk Johnny into allowing Marion to take her on a tour of the brothel. When Johnny realized Izzy knew where she was, he winced internally, and begrudgingly agreed, but only if he was allowed to go along.
“Of course,” Izzy had muttered under her breath so that only Johnny could hear. “If anyone knows this place, I would imagine it would be you.”
The tour lasted a good hour or so, only because Marion happened to have plenty of stories featuring the notorious Johnny Clover, as Izzy had suspected. However, they amused the young woman to no end, and though she had originally thought she wouldn’t want to hear them, per se, she was actually enjoying herself. Johnny would add input as well, to clarify things and to straighten out rumors, always insisting that though he might have been known for being a magnificent lover, he had never actually been in love.
Marion watched the two with interested blue eyes, taking in what the two probably couldn’t (or wouldn’t) see. She had realized when Izzy had first come to the dining table that morning that Johnny had not yet told her of his feelings for her. But even to her, it was clearly written in those dark orbs of his. When he looked at her, there seemed to be this unspoken glow about him, this unreadable expression that decorated his chiseled face. In fact, for as long she had known him, Marion had never seen him look at anybody else that way. And though she had yet to hear from this new young woman, it was obvious she felt the same for him.
When they finally reached their room, Marion bid the couple goodbye and promised dinner would be ready by one o’clock that afternoon. She turned, leaving the couple alone.
“So,” Izzy murmured as the two entered the room, Johnny shutting the door behind him, “this is our room…?”
“Uh, right,” Johnny said, nodding once, shoving his hands down his pockets and choosing to look out the window rather than at her. Though he had admitted his feelings for Izzy with relative ease to Marion, the thought of confessing them to Izzy herself seemed to unnerve the pirate. “I just…I didn’t feel it was right…I was preparing, if you must know…” However, every time he tried to explain, elaborate, reply, he found he couldn’t find the correct words. He turned from the window, and found his eyes already locked with Izzy’s brown ones. He opened his mouth, trying a fourth time, before shutting it abruptly. She was looking at him, without accusation, but rather curiosity, her lips curled up when she realized this might actually be difficult for him.
“Johnny…?” she asked, but refused to say more, tilting her head to the side and arching a brow.
Without a word, Johnny marched over to her with plain determination. When he reached her, he gently placed his hands over her shoulders and brought his head down so he could look at her closely, levelly. “I was worried,” he told her, his tone serious, his voice low. “I was afraid you wouldn’t wake up. I was afraid you wouldn’t come back to me.”
Izzy looked up at him, and though she didn’t want to be charmed by a man who had told her he couldn’t love anybody, she felt the corners of her lips turn up. “I’m here,” she murmured to him, unable to look away from the depths of his eyes. “I don’t plan on going anywhere.”
“You came back to me,” Johnny said in the same low voice, happiness dripping from each word. To him, saying it only made it that much truer, and he slipped his hands from Izzy’s shoulders so they rested on the curve of her back.
Izzy smiled in return, but before she said anything else, she tilted her head towards him and touched her lips to his. Sure, he might not be able to fall in love with her, but she knew he must care about her in some way—why else would he kiss her back at the bar in Tortuga? Closing her eyes, she kissed him tenderly, a content sigh slipping from her nose. Johnny was taken by such surprise that when he did start to respond to Izzy’s gentle ministrations, she pulled away only to look back into those eyes of his. They looked vulnerable, worried, and almost unsure, as though Johnny might push her away from him, or would now only petition her for acts in the physical.
Johnny looked down at her, reaching up with one hand and curling an errant strand of hair behind her ear. She looked absolutely priceless in his arms at that moment, despite the bruises, cuts, and marks that littered her body. Instead of removing his fingertip, he trailed it down the hollow of her cheek, down to her jaw line, and then up to her lips where he ran the pad of his thumb over the bottom one. He wanted to kiss her again, but he refrained, if only to capture this moment in his memory and retain such beauty for the rest of his life.
“You kissed me,” he stated, surprised but not unpleased. His fingertips on her face was causing fear and pleasure to entwine and overtake her senses at present, but again, she couldn’t force her eyes took look away from him.
“I will always come back to you,” she replied in a soft voice, her lips curling up once again to indicate the sincerity in her words. “You’r
e all I have.”
“And you, love, are all I want,” Johnny murmured, before placing the pads of his fingers on her jawline once again, only this time, he did it so he could cock her head to the side in a way where it would be easier for him to kiss her.
The pirate dropped his head down, and pressed his lips against hers as his hand crept up from her jaw to cup the side of Izzy’s face in his palm. As she reached up to encircle Johnny’s neck in her arms, Johnny’s grip on the small of her back tightened, and he ran his tongue along her bottom lip, asking her to allow him entrance to her mouth without using unnecessary words. Izzy gladly accepted his request, opening her mouth to him, and granting him full access to her mouth. Johnny didn’t hesitate; his tongue explored everything Izzy had to offer, tasting her, memorizing everything about her. He had never felt anything behind a kiss besides the obvious pleasure before, and at first, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to proceed, but Izzy was too tempting, and his words had been true—he loved her more than he initially realized.
When they had to break apart due to the fact that both had to breathe, Izzy looked up at him. “It is our room, then,” she murmured, before placing her head on Johnny’s chest.
Johnny chuckled, the vibrations against Izzy making her smile, and he pulled her tighter against him. As of now, at that moment, nothing in the world could deter him from such happiness.
Two weeks later, Izzy was feeling better. The bruises and cuts had all but faded, and her energy was back up. She was smiling, joking even, with the occupants of the house. Some still didn’t like her. They weren’t stupid. They could see the way Johnny looked at her. And when news broke that Johnny was getting ready to leave, they all but cheered.
“I don’t want you to come,” Johnny told Izzy that night in their room, his voice firm and serious. Izzy opened her mouth, ready to object, when Johnny cut her off. “Don’t argue with me, darling. What I’m to do is dangerous, and if anything happened to you while you were under my care, I could never forgive myself.”
To Belive A Buccaneer Page 14