Remembering how Shannyn recently slapped the shit out of Holly for chasing a loyal patron down the stairs with a knife, I winced in horror. “Why would he want to marry her?”
“Ah, he doesn’t. That was the problem. But don’t worry, Holly beat the hell out of him and robbed him the next morning. So, I think he’s done with her.”
“Are you going to get back the things that she stole from him?”
“His loss, not mine.” Mason chuckled and lit a cigarro.
Though I had yet to meet Sterling, I was glad he hadn’t married Holly. “Does he disappear like this every time you are in port?” I gathered the knives we’d been playing with.
“Ah, he always runs off a bit, but we usually spend more time together than this. But this time, he’s got himself all wrapped up in the arms of a pretty little waitress and has been at her flat every free moment he’s had. Tell you the truth though, I wouldn’t mind seeing him stay with a girl like that. He’s got too much talent to be acting like he does sometimes.”
Sitting next to Mason, I began sharpening the blades we had dulled against the target. “What else would he do with his life?”
“I’m hoping one day he’ll get married and give me some grandchildren. I’m getting tired of the way I’ve been living, and I’ve been thinking about retiring. It’d be fun to have some little buggers running around—making me laugh and shit.”
Surprised by his interest in such things, I kinked my head to the side. “You’re going to retire?”
“As long as I don’t die in the damned dirt in Panama. I’ve been thinking I’d like to get another little place by the beach.”
“Mother told me how nice the house you shared in Barbados was. I have always dreamed of ending up in a place like that myself. But I suppose the big ol’ mansion I will be living in will do.”
“Do you like it there?” he asked.
Loving the way he cared so much about my life, I happily answered, “Oh, it is lovely there—especially the gardens.” I explained the beautiful setting, ending with my favorite place, the gateway to the river. “I think I am going to have a very nice life there with him.”
Stroking his goatee, looking to be heavy in thought, Mason said, “You remember that waterway if you ever need to run.”
“Run?” My happy heartbeat halted.
“Ah, things are not always what they seem, my sweet. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re happy and hope the best for you in this joy you’ve found. But no matter where you end up in life, good or bad, remember to always scout out an escape route.”
“All right.” I agreed, though I was certain I would never need to flee in such a way.
“Here. I got you something.” Reaching in his coat pocket, he pulled out a gold locket. It was engraved with the same B that was on the bottle of sandalwood oil mother kept in her secret chest. “I have that B tattooed on my shoulder and your brother signs all of his maps with it. Though I hate the fact that you never bore my last name, at least you can wear my B.”
Tears filled my eyes. Throwing my arms around him, I told him how much I loved him already.
As he held me tight, I was tempted to beg him to stay, but I didn’t.
“All right, sweetheart. I shouldn’t be gone more than a year, and I’ll write to you if I can. Oh, and here, take this.”
Looking inside the bag he handed me, I shrieked. “Sink me! I have never seen so much gold.”
“Shhhh. You can’t let anyone know you have that. If your man finds it, he’ll take it as his own. This is yours, and I want you to save it in case of an emergency. Also, I left a chunk of gold with Billy Barlow for you. If you ever need a thing, he’ll be just as quick to slice a tongue out for my daughter as I was for his.”
“Thank you, Mason.” I hugged him, again.
“You can call me Father, if you’d like.” I felt the rumble of his laughter as he held me. “No matter what you want to call me, I want you to always remember that you’re my daughter. It’s my blood running through your veins, and no matter what the world brings your way, give no quarter and never surrender.”
Chapter 4
A Fire Will Be Lit
February 10th 1664
Midnight,
Many things have changed in my world since I’ve arrived home. Though I imagine you are still angry with me for betraying you, I want you to know you have been on my mind. First of all, I’d like to inform you that I will be marrying Joel Addison this afternoon. He is rich and good looking and I would like to think you would be happy for me, but chances are, you would just say some shitty shit like Shannyn did. Though I am certain she has never left the confines of that nasty little barroom, she took it upon herself to offer me a lesson about the ways of the noble. Insisting that Joel wasn’t going to give a shit about me or my feelings, and that he would only end up locking me away as his pretty little prisoner, she went on and on until I ended up yelling at her. After harshly stating that she had no idea about my class of people, I stormed out of that place, promising never to return. You were right about female friends; they are not to be trusted.
Speaking of distrust…Lloyd sent a letter to Father where he made an interesting mention about you. First of all, he explained the loss of Wilshire Willow’s West, and though I am terribly sad to hear such a lovely property was lost entirely, I am far more troubled by his comment that you were nowhere to be found. What is that about? Seeing my father sitting at his desk with his heavy head resting on his hand, I wanted nothing more than to tell him what I know, but can you imagine how it would go over if I confessed my source? “Oh, by the way, Father, the man Mother left you for, he’s my birth father, and while I was sneaking out to meet him at the tavern, he told me Mother was now living with your brother.”
Imagining the way my father would react to the treasonous tangle of news, I can’t help but laugh out loud.
I have no idea what the hell you two are up to, but I’ll have you know this little stunt has caused me and my father a great deal of grief. With no other way to further shield the shame your rebellion could cast upon his reputation, he has announced you as dead. Yes, dead. As if his permanent solution to this false problem is not enough to trouble my weary heart, he is now engaging in a courtship with a woman half his age. He thinks she and I will get along well, but I have no interest in befriending the woman who is taking your place—especially knowing that you are alive and living with his lying brother.
Anyhow, I feel just as crazy as you writing this letter—knowing damned well I am only going to burn it—but without a bird or cat to talk to about my secrets, I hoped that writing to my “dead” mother would help to ease my agony. But now, beyond just being angry, I feel crazy, too.
-Remington Wilshire-
While watching the flame take hold of my lunatic letter, I thought about the day ahead. In a few short hours, a swarm of servants would be busting through my door to make me up to look better than I ever have before. With all the planning devoted to this day, I was sure the wedding itself would be a dream come true, but it was my fantasies of the night to follow that captured my imagination.
While informing me of the ways of the marital bed, my friend Hope made a point to clarify how it was not about enjoying it, but about making a family. At the mention of these words, my mind flashed with wild visions of Jackson grabbing my body, kissing every bit of my skin, and moving me on top of him until I was satisfied to the core. Letting Hope think my cheeks were blushing because of embarrassment, I thanked her for her helpful advice, but considering the way Joel had been kissing me, I was sure there would be plenty of enjoyment in my future.
Staring out of the window of my room—that would only be mine for this one last day—I lost myself in my blood-rushing dreams until I heard a knock at the door.
Peeking his head in, looking nervous as could be, my father asked if he could enter.
After a moment of awkwardly forced small talk, he finally built up the nerve to address what I was cert
ain he had come in to say. “I always knew this day would come, but I never imagined my daughter would become the wife of such a fine gentleman.” He babbled on nervously. “I am so proud of you, my flower. You have grown up so well and…well, as happy as I am for you, all this talk about marriage has me missing your mother. Did she ever tell you about our wedding day?”
“No, she didn’t’.” My mind piqued with interest.
“We married at sea, under the sails of a tall ship headed for London. Being how you love the seas and the ships that sail them, I figured you would like to know that. And look,” he reached into his pocket and extended his hand to give me the ring he had once given to my mother. “I know Joel will give you a ring of your own, and I am sure it will be much nicer than this, but I want you to keep this one, too.”
Staring at the familiar piece in awe, I gasped. “She left it with you?”
“It was wrapped up in the note she left for me.” Looking sincerely sad, he scratched his head. “I know things didn’t go well for her and me, but aside from all of our struggles, I want you to know I loved her dearly, once. I left my home for her and searched the world for her after she was taken from me, and I want you to remember that kind of love when you gaze upon this ring. Though she is not here to speak for herself, I can assure you that you are indeed the best thing either of us have ever done.”
Throwing myself into his arms, I snuggled against his chest. I didn’t care that he wasn’t my birth father. He was the man who dried my tears and eased my nightmares all of my life. I knew he only wanted the best for me, and he had succeeded in guiding me down a promising future path.
X
Waking to the feel of warm sunlight heating my cheek, I opened my heavy eyes. I had slept so damned good I’d almost forgotten where I was. Sitting up—squinting at the bright light of day—I saw Joel sitting in the chair in front of the window. His natural, light brown hair was a wild mess, and the sight of his bare upper body quickly reminded me of the way he looked above me in this bed last night. Oh, on our wedding night.
Remembering how lovely our wedding was, and thinking about all the fun I had with my wine and my friends at the celebration, I smiled at Joel. “Good morning, my handsome husband.”
Lowering his face in his hand, he took a deep breath.
“Why do you look so upset?” I kinked my head to the side, wondering if I had missed something.
Returning his gaze to me, he growled, “You tricked me.”
“Tricked you?” Unsure of what he meant, but unnerved by his angry expression, I stood up and started looking around for my clothes.
“Yes, Remington. It seems you forgot to mention that you are, how shall I say it? Well used.”
“Well used?” I snipped with defense.
He slapped his forehead and slowly moved his hand down his face. “Watch the tone you use with me, little girl.”
“Little girl.” I grumbled under my breath as I picked up my shift, but as I put it on I tried to talk sweet. “I didn’t trick you, Joel. Everything is fine. We are together now and—”
“Silence,” he snapped.
The power in his voice scared me stiff.
“Sit down and look at me when I am speaking to you, Remington.” He stood up.
The moment I sat in the nearest chair, he started pacing. Stroking his goatee, he looked to be heavy in thought.
Concerned about what would come of all this, I twiddled my fingers and nervously awaited his response.
“Who was it? When was it?” he asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“You were clearly not a virgin and I want to know who it was that tainted my goods.”
Horribly offended by his wording, I squinted as I said, “No one, I’ve never…”
“You might have played me like a fool last night, but I am not one!” He clenched his fist. “Tell me the truth.”
Becoming more annoyed with every condescending word he spoke, I rolled my eyes. “I promise you I have never. I just read a book once that…”
“A book? Ha! The things you did to me last night are not things learned by imagination alone.”
Bothered with his attitude, I braved the nerve to snip, “And what about you and all that sorcery you worked with your mouth? I reckon you didn’t learn that shit in church.”
“That’s enough!” He slapped a vase off of his desk then rushed towards me.
Before I could jump up to flee, he grabbed my face with his big hand. I tried to jerk away from him, but with painful force he turned me to face him. “This sharp tongue of yours will never slice at me again. Regardless of the nasty past that led you here, you now belong to me. Just like the slaves in my fields, the horses in my stables, and every piece of furniture between these walls, you are my property.”
Unsure if his words or his grip on my face hurt more, I closed my eyes as a last resort to escape him.
“Open your eyes!” he roared.
I did as he said.
“Now,” he stared painfully deep into my eyes and squeezed tighter to my jaw, “it is due to the respect I have for your father that I will not yet spread this shameful tale. I would hate to have to destroy everything he has worked for, but do not forget that I have the power to crush you both, and I will do so if you push me to that point.”
Pained by the way his fingers were digging into my jaw, I nodded to agree.
Shoving my face back as he let go, he stepped away and demanded me to stand up.
Too stunned by the entire situation, I hesitated.
“Stand up!” He shouted so loudly it hurt my ears.
I stood up. As confusing surprise, he softly brushed my cheek with his hand “Now, with that out of the way, I will send your maid in to dress you. We have a busy day ahead of us and I will need you looking your best.” He eyed me over like he was appraising a jewel. “Your face is pretty enough, but I can already tell your thoughts are ugly and dangerous, so while we are out you will be seen but not heard.”
As he walked out of the room, I imagined throwing a dagger in his back.
Hearing him stomp down the stairs, I looked around the silent room in shock. Day one and I already wanted to run for the river…
But where in the world would I go? Ah, be patient, Remington, I told myself. But then I remembered Mason’s mention of scouting out an escape route. Suddenly feeling like nothing sacred of mine would be safe under this roof, I bolted over to my chest and plucked out the things I knew Joel would never approve of. Laying out my Midnight cloak, I quickly set my Black Hawke dagger, the B locket and bag of loot Mason gave me, and the clothes gifted to me by my mother, on the black fabric and rolled it up tight.
Pulling out a drawer in the dresser that would now be mine, I placed the precious wad in the back. Figuring it would be safe enough there until I had a chance to scout out a better hiding place, I shoved the drawer back in and wiped the sweat off of my forehead just as my maid knocked on the door.
X
Midnight,
Sitting here alone with my broken heart, I’ve decided to share with you my painful thoughts about the afternoon ahead. The last three months with Joel have been miserable—the worst time of my entire life—but attending my childhood friend’s funeral at his side, certainly made this the worst day yet.
Neither Hope nor her baby survived the birth, and the thought of her lying in the ground alongside her child, chills me to the bone. I know it is common for pregnancies to fail, but thinking back on how excited she was rubbing her rounded belly, I feel so sad it makes me sick.
Of the two of us, she was the good one. She had waited until marriage to have sex, and she lay there quietly as her husband put that baby in her incapable young body. She was a good wife and would have been a wonderful mother to her child if they had lived. But me, uh, I’m nothing but a sharp tongued shame of a wife who—
Hearing Joel come up the stairs much sooner than I expected, I hurriedly burned my parchment and bolted over to the windo
w to act as if I was only gazing upon the garden. At the sound of him entering the room, my spine tensed up. Terrified by his presence, I kept my gaze on the view of the river and ignored him for as long as I could.
Soon enough, he shut the curtains. “There is nothing for you out there but trouble.”
I wanted to punch him for saying that to me, but my agitation turned to fear when I watched him sniff the air. “What is that awful smell? Are you burning something?”
“No. I’m not. It’s nothing.”
Grabbing my wrist, he dragged me over to the waste bin and plucked out a piece of burnt parchment. “I don’t call this nothing.” He squinted at the ashen remains of my safely kept secrets. “It is not a lady’s place to hide things from her husband. I will need to remove these devil’s tools from your crafty little hands.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I complained. “Since you did away with my maid, Scarlett, I have no one to talk to, and if you take my quill away from me I will lose my mind.”
A hard slap to the face stopped my words.
Knocked off balance by the unexpected blow, I fell to the floor as he shouted, “You only have two jobs around here and neither of them require thinking or talking. So I care not where your mind goes.”
Dazed by the pain, I backed into the corner as he pointed at me. “This type of behavior is completely unacceptable.”
“And this isn’t?” I cried, holding my searing cheek.
Grabbing me by the hair, he slapped me again—even harder this time. With my vision marred by stars and my hearing overpowered by the ringing in my head, I couldn’t have argued with him if I wanted to.
Releasing his painful grip on me, he lifted my chin with his hand and softly said, “What a shame. Your pretty face is one of my greater assets and now you have ruined that, as well.”
The way he brushed his finger across my bottom lip made me want to bite him, but being scared to death, I sat as stiff as a board as he said, “Now, you listen here. The loss of my brother’s wife has upped the importance of me bringing forth sons to bear our family name. So, lay down.”
Never Surrender (Uncharted Secrets, Book 4): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories Page 4
