Following her up the finely sanded stairs that led to the loft, my mind ran wild with the endless possibilities ahead of me, but as tired as I was, I figured it would be best to wait until morning to discuss anything further. Like she said, we were partners now, and beyond all of the troublesome details, I loved the idea of being strong, powerful, and free. Like Midnight. Like Mason and Sterling. Perhaps Mother and I could now be friends the same as the two of them.
After lying me down, she opened the long window next to the nightstand, and while she stood there eyeing the bay, I inhaled the scent of rain. To the sound of raindrops pattering lightly on the rooftop, I began dozing off, but I was faintly awoken by the feel of her kiss on my cheek. “I chose your middle name because Mason loved the rainy weather. The sight, the smell, the sound. The day I realized I was in love with him the rain was pouring outside the stern doors of Esmerelda, and from that moment forward, I loved it, too.” She sighed. “Mason Bentley is a good man, Remington, and I know he is going to be so proud of the young woman you have become. And for the rest of your life you can take pride in knowing that you carry the blood of a powerful buccaneer.”
Chapter 12
Sunrise
“Sunrise.”Sky squawked so loudly that it startled me out of my heavy slumber.
Sitting up, short of breath, I looked around the loft I had fallen asleep in and remembered the night’s events. Slapping my forehead, I sighed, “Damn that mother of mine.”
“Sunrise!” Sky screeched again.
“And damn you, too, you ghastly little ghoul.” I shook my head.
What the hell kind of nightmare was I living? My crazy mother was a murderer, my father, who had raised me, was an adulterer, and not truly my father at all, and my birth father was a notorious buccaneer. And I had a brother! I was certainly excited about that part of my nightmare.
When would I meet him? How would it go? Would he be happy to meet me? What in the world would we talk about? Maybe we could end up being best friends. And then Mason, oh my. I think I’m afraid to meet him. He was so stout and confident and revered by all, so how in the world would he accept the news of having a daughter? A daughter who looked just like him. This was going to be interesting.
No longer able to contain my anxiety, I stood up and stretched. Judging by the way she handled the situation last night, it was apparent that Mother had a plan, and I was interested to see what the hell her ridiculous mind had conjured up for the day.
Wandering down the curved stairway into the open room below, I heard a man’s voice. “Good morning, Miss Remington.”
It was Franklin. He was sitting on the sofa, sharpening his knife. How the hell did he get here? Mother and her relentless surprises. I shook my head as I drew near her puppy boy.
Taking a better look at the knife he was working on, I saw that it was a Black Hawke blade. Damn that black-hearted blacksmith, and damn Franklin, too. Everything about this day was already annoying me.
“Where is my mother?” I barked at him when I noticed she was nowhere in sight.
“Oh, she had some business to tend to. She said she’d return later this evening,” he casually stated, and the sound of his file driving against the blade became incredibly agitating.
“And you just let her go?” I roared, imagining her out murdering people in the alleyways.
Jerking his head back in shock, he looked at me like I was a nasty swamp beast. “Aye. She’s in charge, not me.”
“No she is not! My father is in charge and he hired you to watch over her, not to dote over her like a senseless servant boy.” Fuming with irritation, I headed over to her secret chest—which I no longer feared—and pried the lock.
As the hinges squeaked open, an earthy whiff of exotic oil barraged my sense of smell. Beginning to fear that I would find dismembered parts of her victims inside, I hesitated for a moment, but decided I had come too far to quit now.
To my relief, there were no heads or other body parts amongst the neatly stored items. With a quick scan, I saw clothes and rope and more weapons than one little woman should ever have, but I wanted to see what else was hidden amongst those items. Getting comfortable on the floor, I began looking deeper into the secret world that smelled so good.
First I lifted a bottle that I assumed was giving off the fragrant scent. There was a scripted B engraved into the glass. Then I noticed a leather pouch. It was heavy. When I opened it, my eyes widened with awe. It was full of gold pieces and colorful jewels! Good heavens, Midnight was still rich.
Certain that the loot was the least valued of her treasured items, I dived further in. There were a couple of small paintings. One was of the ship Sunrise. Another was a colorful view of the sea from the beach, and it had a small hand print stamped on it. I guessed it to be Sterling’s hand and it made me want to cry. The last piece was canvas with the same scripted B on it, the same as the bottle, but it had a tribal style design around it, and had a few drips of red blood painted across the top right corner. Odd. Even odder was the fact that she kept a cat skull in the chest. A ribbon looped through the eye socket with a tag that said, Feather. Imagining her digging up her beloved cat’s dead body before we left England—most likely in the night while wearing her cloak—I shivered.
Moving on, I found rolls of parchment. Unrolling each one, I was stunned to the core to find the most detailed maps I had ever witnessed. Mountain heights and sea depths were listed. Shorelines were finely detailed with high and low tide lines marked. But best of all, each map was marked with a crescent moon and a feather, with a few stars sprinkled around them. These were Midnight’s maps.
Next, I discovered the letters Mason had written her. Though tempted to open them, I felt that would be prying too far into her heart. But I touched each one and eyed the fine detail of his handwriting. There were thirteen letters. Each addressed to Hannah Bentley. This was too much. I shouldn’t be so nosey.
Standing up, I pulled out the men’s clothing that she had gotten for me. It was time to put them on. Heading toward the stairs, I saw a feathered tricorn hat sitting on the counter. It reminded me of the one Notorious Torrence wore, and I decided to add it to my outfit.
Calmed by the travel through time I’d taken inside Mother’s secret chest, I thought over all the interesting pieces as I got dressed. Feeling as torn as she was, I wondered how I would deal with my two fathers, while also wondering how they each would deal with me. What if Thomas found out I was Mason’s daughter? He didn’t like pirates, or buccaneers. If he found I carried buccaneer blood, he probably wouldn’t want me anymore. Shit. And then there was always the chance of Mason not wanting me either. Busy as he was carousing the taverns, sailing the seas, and gathering more gold than most men had ever seen, I had a hard time imagining him taking interest in raising a girl like me.
While braiding my hair like Mother’s, I realized that if all else failed…I would always have her. Lining my eyes the way she did, I laughed. If she was willing to murder people for me, then she would never leave me…but then it hit me. She had abandoned Sterling for my father, and in a sense—by spending most of my life locked in her study with all those silent things in her secret chest—she had abandoned me for her memory of Mason. As I stashed my wide array of weapons, I began to worry. If Mason didn’t want me, would she leave me for him? What would I do then?
Either way, this news had ruined my life. My chances of marrying Joel, or any man of his stature, would be obliterated by the fact that I was a buccaneer’s daughter, but the thought of living amongst buccaneers after having been raised by a gentleman were simply absurd. I would never fit in anywhere.
Momentarily worrying about the thought of ending up alone, and considering the idea of running to Jackson—who fit well in both worlds—I shook my head and slapped at my cheek. No! No, Remington, you do not need a man to be strong. Eyeing the solid steel blade of my beloved dagger, I felt a wicked smile rise on my face. I carried the blood of a powerful buccaneer, I was trained with my weap
ons by a master blacksmith, and Midnight had shown me the ways of her stealth. Ah, Midnight, the wench who said we were partners now, had already left without telling me a thing about her plans.
Looking myself over in the mirror—black breeches, ivory shirt, black waistcoat and red coat—a cocky grin lit my face. I didn’t need anyone.
Seeing me head toward the door, Franklin shot up. “Where are you going, miss?”
“Nowhere that is of your concern,” I snipped.
Quick as lightning, he leapt in front of the door. “Sorry, miss. Your mother made it very clear that you weren’t to leave today.”
“Did she?” I crossed my arms over my chest and raised a brow.
“Aye. She did, and I must abide by her orders. You know your father wouldn’t want you running off, either,” he added, only to appease me, I was sure.
“You’re right.” I let out an exhausted exhale.
He looked relieved to see that I had cooperated so easily, but a plan was brewing in my mind.
Biting my lip, I looked him over. “I suppose it’s you and me…all alone for the day.”
Honestly, beneath the impish behavior that made him look like a pansy boy, he was a fairly attractive fellow. Focusing on his features more than his mannerisms, I reached my arms out for his shoulders.
He swallowed hard. “Aye. Just you and me, miss.”
“And what a long day it will be.” I breathed in his ear and started kissing on his neck.
Instantly feeling his change of mood burst through his breeches, I began unlacing his shirt.
“Ah, we shouldn’t…” he mumbled as I rubbed down his hairless chest.
“We?” I asked as I tossed his shirt to the side. “All you have to do is stand there.” I began unbuckling his belt. He didn’t try to stop me as I dropped to my knees.
After kissing and tickling and teasing him in the doorway for a moment, I baited him over to the ornate wooden arm chair. There, I informed him that his boots and breeches were in my way. With them removed, I did my best to suck the sense right out of him. Feeling him slip further into dreamland, I reached into my duffle and pulled out the rope I had found in the secret chest. Slipping it over his wrist, I tied him down.
He gasped, “No. Wait. What are you doing?”
I tickled down his chest. “You are going to love what I am doing. Trust me.”
“Oh, I don’t.” He reached over to untie his hand, so I grabbed his free hand and started sucking on his fingers. He seemed to like that as much as what I was doing before, and it was ridiculously easy to guide his wrist back to the arm rest where I quickly roped him up.
“Whoa. No! I didn’t want you to do that.” He tried to jump to his feet as I leapt away from him. The heavy chair slowed his efforts, but he was up and I feared he would break free.
Shit! Having not thought this far into my plan, my panicked reflexes led me to punch him. Fist hard and solid across his jaw, I watched his head jerk to the side. Before he could react with his free hand, I whacked him again with my other. Stunned and dazed, he tried to catch his footing, but before he could retaliate, I shoved him back in the chair and ran to the backside of it where I then tied his waist.
I tightened his binds. “I didn’t want to have to do this, either, but sometimes we have to do shit we don’t want to do to survive.” I quoted one of Mason’s lines from Mother’s stories.
Franklin fought and flailed and cursed me for my trashy act of treason, but that was all he could do from his binds. Stepping back, I pulled the pistol out of my sash and pointed it at him. I had no idea how to use it, but he didn’t know that.
Once again, he gulped.
“Relax, my boy. I had too much fun with you to want to hurt you, but I have some work to do, and I cannot allow you to stop me.”
Being the spleeny nut-hook that he was, he did not try to rise.
“Damn it. Your mother’s going to kill me,” he whined.
She might. I hadn’t thought of that. But it was too late to turn back now. “Even if you live to tell the tale, it’s better if you don’t. This would be a shameful way to get your name out in the world.” I kissed him on the cheek. “You’ll have plenty of time to think of a much better story.”
He rolled his head around huffing in defeat while I gathered my wits, and as I slipped out of the door I thanked him for the good time.
Wandering down the stairway, I remembered Mother’s words about harlotry, but rather than feeding the guilt that began creeping into my soul, I chuckled. At least I hadn’t done anything to end up with a child in my belly, and I certainly kept the upper hand.
Once I hit the back alley, I moved on to more important thoughts. Where in the world was I headed? Since the High Horse Inn was right next door to The Captain’s Wife, I decided to start there. I had only met Notorious Torrence once, but I had a feeling she would help me figure things out.
Chapter 13
Brave the Storm
Entering The Captain’s Wife, I was startled to a halt when a big, half-dressed drunk man bumped into me. “Look out, little boy,” he snarled as he knocked me back.
Scared to death by his rowdy shove, I had to remind myself that I had weapons at hand, but before I needed to grab any of them, he stumbled out of the door. Regaining my composure, I chuckled to myself, At least he thought I was a boy. Then I headed towards the bar.
Seeing Torrence’s pretty hat sitting on the back counter as a decoration, I giggled about the way she’d cursed about it, then I saw her leaning over the far end of the counter talking to one of her patrons. Walking towards them, I tried to catch her attention without interrupting them, but she was too involved in relating a story about her cats. Apparently, she had three of them. Gromit liked to sit on her shoulder like a parrot, Maggie was a seven clawed wonder, and Fluffy was like a mythical woodland creature that was hardly ever seen.
Thinking of my mother’s beloved cat, Feather—and the way she kept his skull in her secret case—I remembered the importance of my visit and braved the nerve to interrupt. “Excuse me, madam.” I forced a rough, masculine tone.
Looking towards me, she eyed me over and then said farewell to the man who seemed all too amused with the lives and adventures of her many cats.
“You’ve come back.”
“How did you recognize me in my disguise?”
“It’s those eyes of yours. And your tits are simply too large to hide.” Her eyes grazed across my chest.
“That man in the doorway thought I was a boy,” I informed her as I sat on a barstool.
“Fat Frank?” She laughed. “Oh, he’s so drunk he’d believe Jane was a boy if I told him so, and he just bedded her.” She waved her hand at the whore walking up the stairs with another patron.
“I suppose I should work on my disguise, then.” I lowered my head, feeling stupid.
“What are you hiding from, anyhow?” Torrence lifted my chin.
“That’s just what I came to talk to you about. I haven’t made any other friends here and I need some advice.”
“All right. Let’s get out of this pit and go upstairs where it isn’t as loud.”
Following her up the stairs, I thought over the details I was willing to share. I was glad she’d brought me up to a small table on the deck overlooking the room below. It was nowhere near as smoky, there was natural light shining in the window behind us, and other than the sound of the whore moaning from the room behind us, the area was certainly quieter than it was downstairs in what she called the pit.
Lighting a pipe, she asked me, “So what’s on your mind, sweetheart?”
“Well,” I took a deep breath and spewed out all the details of my absurd family history. I left out all of their names, and was glad she never asked who was who, but she listened with wide eyes and asked heartfelt questions along the way. I had only come for guidance, but her sincere concern caused my heart to soften. Not expecting to, I started to cry. “I am mad at my father for cheating on my mother, I am mad at her
for lying to all of us, and I am terrified that neither of my fathers will want me now. Oh, and I guess I have a brother, too!”
My mind told me to stop talking, but my heart kept going. “Also, I had a secret love affair with an older man, but it turns out he was married. What we shared was special to me, but he just used me, and that broke my heart, so I used a sailor to get back at him, then allowed my father to arrange a well-to-do courtship for me. But all of that only distracted me from the pain for a couple of hours. That lying, cheating, black-hearted adulterer has been on my mind ever since!
Then, after my mother shared with me all these horrendous life changing truths, she locked me away with a guard. Unwilling to be caged in her stupid, secret prison cell, I seduced and tied him up and busted out. Now, here I am, and I never want to go home, but I have no idea where else to go.”
Torrence rubbed her face. “Sink me, girl. Welcome to Port Royal.”
“I think I hate it here,” I sniffled.
She took my hand. “Look. As for the men, they usually have one thing on their minds, and if you give them that one thing, that’s all they’ll ever want from you. If you want a man to like you for more than just your sex, then you have to show him there is more to you than your sex. Though I am no one to talk, I reckon there’s a reason why they say it’s best to wait for marriage to have sex.”
“My mother said the same thing. I suppose you are both right, but after all this shit, I can’t imagine ever getting married.”
She let out an exhausted laugh. “After my rough introduction to love, marriage just isn’t in my cards either.”
“What’s your story? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Oh, I don’t mind. I’m an open book, my friend.” She sat up straight to tell the tale. “You see, I was always around at the bar my father and brothers owned in Argentina, and that’s where I fell in love with Nathaniel’s father. Handsome as the devil he was, slick as the night and smooth as the sea, but with him being of noble descent, our romance never extended beyond the bedroom. Like you, I was young and loved him so much I did not see the ways in which our relationship was wrong, but the day I went to tell him about Nathaniel was the day it all came clear.” She squinted like she was still angry about it. “I went to his door, and in front of his mother he acted like he didn’t know me. Crushed to the core, I returned home to tell my father what I had gotten myself into, but I was scared to death to do so.
Every Time It Rains (Uncharted Secrets, Book 3): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories Page 10
