The Bride of Blackbeard

by Brynn Chapman

  “There is more to beauty than what the eye sees,” he said softly, stroking her cheek. “You are bolder than some men I have known. And my life has been missing something for a long time.” He reached over to kiss her on the lips, gently this time.

  A shuffling sound from the other side of the room grew louder.

  “Oh, my! Well I never thought I would have seen the day! And all these years I thought that heart was made of stone! Well, c`est la vie.” Bess stood with both hands on her hips, clucking her tongue.

  “What is that ce-la-vee thing you said?” Stanzy asked.

  “It mean goes to show you never can tell ‘bout folks.”

  “Bess, that is enough,” Lucian said. His voice harsh, but his eyes smiling. Then mildly to Stanzy, “You do have to be vigilant around Meg. She is a very angry little girl.”

  “I’d be angry too if my mamma and poppa stopped comin’ to see me,” said the huge woman as she arranged the fresh linen she’d brought into the room.

  “BESS! Before you get us both let go.”

  “Katrina has gone to Bath with the Hopkinses,” Stanzy said changing the subject.

  “Yes, I know. And I am certain they will pay a call to your friend Edward whilst they are there.”

  Bess left the room, shutting the door behind her, and Lucian stared at Stanzy, chewing on his bottom lip.

  He placed Stanzy’s right hand gingerly on the bed and proceeded to pick up her left hand. She was so accustomed to hiding it, she barely even noticed. It wasn’t for her own embarrassment, but she’d grown tired over the years of people inquiring about it and her subsequent lies to protect her father.

  I cannot breathe.

  His thumb gently traced the spot where the finger should have met her hand, and he said, almost shyly, “Are you ever going to tell me what happened here?”

  She looked at him. His sincerity almost compelled her to tell the story, but decided it wasn’t the place or time.

  “Someday.”

  ~ * ~

  Stanzy tossed and turned all night with dreams of Edward Teache and Katrina, as screaming muffled cries for help from the deck of the Freedom echoed in her head. Faces of the young girls she’d known who had each met a watery grave floated in and out of her consciousness, their heavy dresses pulling them down like jaws to the murky Atlantic bottom.

  ~ Chapter Four ~

  “Oh Stanzy, the Hammock House is beautiful! You were daft not to accept Edward’s invitation! He has told me of how it once was a place of many grand parties for all sorts of sea captains, and it was built with materials from as far away as Scotland. I do not have use for such tales, but I know you would love to hear all of it! It was built on high ground so that the seamen could use it as a guide from the Beaufort Inlet to wind their way through the deadly shoals, similar to the ones on which we ran aground on our arrival in the banks. He has done nothing but talk of you throughout our stay. He is such a man of the world and has seen so many places. Tortuga and other ports I have never even heard of before.

  “Sarah and I have already been to several balls and we may even stay another fortnight.

  “I have made the acquaintance of so many ladies here in Bath, as well. Many are married to seafaring men, and pregnancy must be in the water here. I met a Mrs. Drummond, and a Mrs. Thatcher, both of whom are due to deliver at any time. Their husbands are out to sea currently, but I look forward to returning to see if they perhaps have a mate that would meet my standards—my standards, Stanzy, not yours!”

  Constanza put the letter down and shook her head. The silly girl. She’d been silly since the moment she opened her eyes on this world and it didn’t help that Father had spoiled her rotten because of her beauty. Her beauty couldn’t save us, Daddy. Another of your colossal miscalculations.

  Her father had always hoped Katrina would marry into money and not forget her family after her bags had been packed. In the end though, her beauty hadn’t been enough to keep the debt collectors away, nor had it stopped her father drowning his daily sorrows in a tall glass of ale.

  Picking up the second letter, her eyebrows knitted with concern. Sealed with a blood red wax, she didn’t recognize the handwriting. She opened it with shaking hands, fearing further bad tidings from Bristol, possibly regarding her dear uncle, who was getting on in years.

  Her eyes opened and jaw dropped at the contents.

  “Dearest Constanza,

  “Once you were aboard my vessel, I have had trouble thinking of any other woman. I think you are a good match for me and I am asking for your hand in marriage. I can offer you far more riches than your current station at the plantation and, as there is no father to speak to, I intend to speak to Hopkins about it on my next visit. I will be out to sea for a few weeks, and when I return, I will come to collect my bride!

  “Yours,

  “Edward Teache”

  Chest heaving, her heart pounding so furiously in her chest she felt it might escape her ribcage and drop to the floor, she bellowed into the quiet, “That arrogant idiot!”

  What will I do when he comes here? For some reason, that peacock Hopkins seems very intent on keeping Edward Teache happy.

  Thank goodness they were all still traveling. She would have some time to sort it all out before their return.

  She made her way out of her room and down to the servants’ quarters in a daze, not registering any of her surroundings. The life of a governess was a difficult one. She was expected to have the manners of a gentlewoman, but ate and roomed in the servants’ quarters. As fate would have it, she wasn’t fully accepted by the servants either, as she had access to the master’s children.

  If not for Lucian, her life would have been very solitary indeed. He’d been raised on the plantation with all the slaves, so was accepted by them as family. His position as liaison between the two made her welcome in the servants’ quarters.

  She sat at the table, and Bess placed a cup of tea in front of her. Her hand traced the underside of the table which was smooth, unlike the rough hewn top. It must be an additional table for guests when the plantation became too full for the regular dining room. She wondered if the table had been turned this year at all. The only guests she’d seen the family entertain were Teache and his mates. The only time the Hopkinses did any sort of socializing was when they went into town.

  The door opened from the kitchen and Lucian entered, smiling at her. His face was so carefree this morn, he looked ten years younger. Walking to the stove, he scooped oatmeal into two bowls and filled one with milk, and two spoons of sugar.

  He set one wooden bowl down in front of her, “I believe this is how you like your oatmeal, Stanzy.”

  I cannot believe someone actually handed me my breakfast, or noticed my preference for anything. It has been twelve long years since anyone handed me anything other than a baby or a broom.

  She felt her eyes well, and tears splatter down onto her cheeks. Since her mother had passed, no one in all these years had ever thought to consider her needs. Lucian’s thoughtful gesture touched her so much she ducked her head and wept into her hands. With him she actually felt safe enough to admit she was perpetually frightened, even though her daily attitude conveyed the opposite.

  She raised her head and wiped her eyes, watching Lucian's decidedly uncomfortable expression at her reaction to his kindness. He sank into the seat beside her, awkwardly placing an arm around her shoulders.

  When she looked sideways at him, she burst out laughing. His expression changed from awkward to utterly dumbfounded.

  “Stanzy?” he said very carefully.

  “Lucian. I have never seen the likes of you.” She leaned and kissed him full on the mouth.

  Never losing contact with her lips, he hauled her onto his lap. His hands caressed her hips.

  Bess shook her head in astonishment. “My word! Would you two just go on and get it over with! Neither one of you is goin’ to be of any use around here ‘til you just go on and get together! These folks is puri
tans, and if they sees you two goin’ on like this out where others can see, you two both gonna be outta work!”

  When Bess quit speaking, he broke the kiss. His face was serious again, and he gently extricated her entangled body from his.

  “She is correct, Stanzy. Puritans can be punished for even caring too much about any one thing, even their own children. They believe God may punish them for attributing too much value to possessions and family. We have to do this right.”

  He kissed her again, quickly. Then dropped to one knee on the hardwood floor, the noise resonating through the kitchen.

  Mouth agape, Bess plopped down the spoon she was stirring the oatmeal with and yelled. “Alfonso! Get in here!”

  The elderly man ambled in as quickly as his rheumatism would permit and looked wildly around for trouble. Then seeing Lucian on the floor, he nodded and grinned at Bess.

  “Stanzy, I know we have known each other only a month’s time, but sometimes in life you just know. Would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

  He looks so vulnerable. I have never met anyone who could be so self-assured one moment, as when he stood up to Teache, or when he looked so frightened of me, a woman, as if I have the power to strike him down.

  She swallowed hard. Never in her wildest imaginations had she thought this day would come for her. Long ago she’d resigned herself to being alone.

  “Yes, Lucian, I have never wanted anything more in my life.”

  The joy on his face mirrored her own elation. Reaching for her, he pulled her down to the floor. He lost his balance and took her with him, falling in a heap of arms and legs.

  Bess guffawed and added, “They are perfectly matched—perfectly insane.”

  ~ * ~

  Constanza walked across the dim apartment toward Megan's bed. Bess felt Meg had to be sick as she hadn’t so much as ventured out of her bed for a whole day. Her tiny body was wrapped in the blanket so tight, Stanzy was afraid she might smother herself.

  Megan began to cry in earnest as soon as Stanzy touched her back. Peering under the covers she saw Meg cradled a doll to her chest. This doll wasn’t like the others she’d decapitated or maimed. It was soft, and she desperately clung to it as she sobbed.

  I knew she was in there, stuck in her mind…

  Empathy was an easy emotion to feel toward this tiny, sick creature whose parents no longer visited her, who perpetually felt uncomfortable in her own skin, and who was unable to communicate even her most basic needs. Life could be crueler than death at times.

  Stanzy swiped at her face, surprised at the tears wetting her hand. Groomed from an early age as a physician, she’d been taught to be stoic and logical despite the pressure or situation, and above all else, to assist the patient in feeling safe and cared for. She’d successfully remained emotion-free for amputations, births, and even an occasional death—however, children were different for her.

  This child was different.

  She’d pierced through Stanzy’s protective bubble like a needle through parchment paper.

  “Meg. Meg, sit up.”

  Meg stared at her from under her blanket cave.

  Constanza raised her hands and performed the sign ‘mama.’ Meg sat up suddenly and grabbed Stanzy’s hands and shook them. Stanzy quickly performed the sign again, then Meg took her hand and imitated the gesture.

  “Yes! Yes! Mama!” Stanzy stood up and shouted an unrefined whoop of glee loud enough to send Bess flying up the stairs.

  Then the realization dawned on her. “Honey, I am not your mama.”

  Meg continued to stare at her and performed the sign again.

  “Bess, I am just going to permit her to call me it, as it is the first attempt to communicate I have ever seen.”

  “She can call you cat vomit if she wants, for all I care. You get her to talk and I will be sure to tell Hopkins it was all your doin’. Then that Teache feller won’t have no chance of sweepin’ you outta here!”

  “How did you know about that?”

  “You ought to be more careful where you leave your personal effects layin’ open for the world to see. Does Lucian know about the proposal?”

  Stanzy cast her eyes down and nipped her lower lip. “No. I haven’t spoken of it to him. I didn’t want to mar the memory of Lucian proposing to me.”

  “Only thing that is marred is your dress, from rollin’ ‘round on the kitchen floor with him. You best tell him soon.”

  “I will.”

  Two hours later, Stanzy walked down the stairs, nursing an open wound to her arm where Meg had clawed in frustration when she couldn’t comply with her requests. At the kitchen sink, she began to clean the wound, wincing at the burning pain. The door opened and the boys and Lucian emerged from the field.

  Arms wrapped around her waist, until he saw what she was doing. “Meg?” he asked pointedly.

  “Yes, but Lucian...she is signing...come with me, you have to see her.”

  ~ * ~

  The sloop made its way through the narrow azure waterway between Ocracoke Island and the sandbar. To the crew, it had now become known as ‘the hole.’

  Morning sun rose over the island and the crew—men not accustomed to idleness—was losing patience. One day’s wait alone had resulted in three knife wounds and one death.

  “Aye, Captain, I can see her approaching!” Beaumont called from his lofty perch in the crow’s nest. “She is coming in from the southeast.”

  The sloop sprang into action, gliding out of the hole and into the Atlantic proper. The small Dutch fleut was no match for the sloop, which began to gain on it immediately.

  Beaumont dropped to the deck, making the cabin boy jump with fright. “You see, Johnny, the fleut is a prime target. Cargo is housed in its hull, and it only takes twelve men to man it. There may be twelve guns, but that means each seaman will have to man a gun, with no one left to man the sails,” he explained to the young cabin boy.

  “Well that is just daft, they are asking for us to come and take their loot.”

  “Aye! The owners are cheap, and want to pay as little as possible to get their goods to the Carolina’s, so that usually means there will be a small crew aboard—” He was stopped short by the sound of gunfire.

  “Sir, the flag is red today...the other week we sailed, a black flag was raised...what do they mean?”

  “Red means no quarter, boy.”

  The captain emerged. Although used to his appearance each day, the cabin boy shrank back in fear and awe. The captain had lit his beard on fire—or so it seemed—and his beard grew all the way to his eye sockets, making him look more animal or perhaps devil, than man.

  The Queen Anne’s Revenge began firing on the fleut, and sure enough, it stood still in the water as it returned fire. They approached the vessel within yelling range and the captain bellowed, “If ye surrender yer cargo now, we will let ye swim to shore. If not...well the gate to hell has already been open.”

  There was a moment’s complete stillness in the water. The only sounds in the silent, close air were the waves licking at the sides of the ship. Then sound ripped through the air as the fleut recommenced firing upon the Queen Anne’s Revenge.

  “Prepare to board and slaughter.”

  ~ * ~

  Stanzy pulled the puppies away from their mother one at a time to examine them. “Lucian, these dogs are beautiful. The boys are going to be so thrilled to have them.”

  “Yes. Ben has been waiting for weeks and asks every day if they have arrived. I am sure Will and Lucas will want one, too.”

  “Well, of course! What self-respecting boy does not want a dog? Lucian, what if we give one to Megan?”

  His face clouded and he stared off into the fields of tobacco for a moment as if searching for an answer.

  Finally he returned her gaze with a sad expression. “Stanzy, you know I love the little lass like she is my own, but I am afraid she will maim or kill the pup.”

  “I understand how you feel. But she has never been
given a chance, Lucian. She has only been out of that room a handful of times since she was two, and each time accompanied by you. Let me try. I will watch her, and I won’t leave her alone with it unless I am certain it is safe.”

  “All right. But I would keep it close to your chest.”

  “We have many secrets, Lucian. First, that I am to be your bride, and now a puppy for Megan!”

  He leaned over the basket and kissed her hard on the lips. ”Stanzy, I know you want to wait ‘til everyone is more settled, but I am not sure I can. Let me come and sleep in your bed tonight. I promise to be a gentleman, but I spend half my nights thinking of you anyway. I might get more sleep if I could feel you beside me.”

  “I will think about it, but we would have to be very careful. You know how steeped in tradition this entire plantation is. Lucian, I need to tell you something.”

  Here it is. If he is true, he will not doubt me.

  His eyes, darting back and forth across the fields, snapped back to her with such intensity it took her by surprise. “What is it?”

  “I received a letter.”

  “Yes, go on. Speak plainly.”

  “It was from Edward Teache. He asked for my hand in marriage.”

  Lucian stood so quickly it knocked her off balance. She was taken aback as he paced to and fro across the school room floor, muttering. ”This will not do. No this will not do at all.”

  “Lucian—”

  “How long have you known this?” His eyes went wild and pupils became a pinprick. His dark hair fell across his forehead and he swiped it out of his face in irritation.

  “A-about two weeks... I was going to tell you, but I did not want to intrude on our happiness.”

  “Stanzy, obviously you do not realize the gravity of this situation. Teache is very dangerous; I did not want you to know how dangerous as I did not want to alarm you—”

  “Alarm me? Someone who has been caring for herself and two siblings—one a mere baby—since she was sixteen years old? Who traveled across the Atlantic without male escort? I do not need your protection, I need your honesty!”

  “And I yours!” He stormed out of the school, throwing the door open so hard it hit the wooden frame with an earsplitting clatter.