by Hays, Lara
Mother Ivy snorted softly. “If you were on your way to St. Kitts, then you’re definitely lost. Besides, this is a different kind of port. You’ll not be finding passenger ships in the harbor at all.”
“There must be something. I mean, I can’t stay here forever.” I said it more to myself than the stoic ladies before me. I thought about what Mother Ivy said. No passenger ships. “So this port…trade port, right? Not really a colony, is it?”
Hannah and the blonde nodded. Mother Ivy remained still.
“Do pirates ever come here?” I felt silly asking such a loaded question, but I could see the answer on the women’s faces even though no one spoke. “There’s someone who could help me. A Mr. Holladay. Nicholas Holladay. Does he frequent this port ever?”
“Never heard of him,” Mother Ivy said flatly. “Sounds a little rich for our lot.”
“No,” I shook my head grasping for the right thing to say. “No, he’s a pirate. Quartermaster. Marks. They call him Marks. He sails on the Banshee. I don’t suppose you’ve seen the Banshee recently?”
“Marks?” the blonde balked. “You know Marks?”
Realizing that the blonde prostitute knew my Nicholas twisted my stomach. Still, it offered some hope for escape. “He’s a friend. He might have asked about me?”
“Haven’t seen Marks in ages,” the blonde prattled on. “Not that he’s worth much when he visits.”
“Hush, Charlotte,” Mother Ivy commanded. “Now Miss Tessa, you’re obviously improving, but not entirely well yet. Rest up and we’ll figure out what to do with you when you’re worth something. Ladies, let’s leave our guest in peace. There’s work to be done.”
Hannah and Charlotte left the room with Mother Ivy slowly following. She paused in the doorway. “I’ll send Liam with some food. You must be hungry.”
“Thank you,” I responded politely, but it wasn’t genuine. Something about this place made me feel just as trapped as the brig on the Banshee.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
As soon as I smelled the food, my stomach roared for it. Liam laughed as he handed it to me.
“Hash,” was all he said.
“Ah, it smells wonderful. Why don’t you keep me company while I eat?”
He didn’t need to be asked twice. Liam eagerly plopped down on the floor beside my bed.
I ate the hash voraciously. It was the best food I’d had in months. I wanted to swim in it. I was only vaguely aware of the boy staring at me but I couldn’t care until my plate of hash was almost gone and my stomach finally stopped rumbling.
“You really are hungry,” Liam laughed again. “Must be feeling better for sure.”
I nodded. “I thought I was going to die. And I probably would have if you hadn’t found me on that road.”
Liam beamed.
We sat quietly for a moment. Liam seemed completely content doing nothing but staring at me. But I was quite uncomfortable with it.
“So, Liam, where is your father?”
“Don’t have one.”
“Oh,” I mumbled, feeling foolish for asking.
Liam did not seem offended though. “Where is your father?”
I shrugged. “I am not sure I have one either.”
Liam’s interest was piqued. “What do you mean?”
“I was sailing from England and our ship sank. I haven’t seen my father since then. I was rescued by pirates, but I don’t know what happened to him. I think he probably drowned.” I was amazed at how simply I stated these facts to Liam. There were no tears or dark, brooding emotions. It was easy to share it with such an honest little face.
“Do you have a mother? Who takes care of you?”
That question hurt my heart, just a little. I forced a smile. “Well, you do, now don’t you?”
Liam’s chest puffed.
“I need to make my way to St. Kitts, though. Or Barbados. When I am better. How do you think I can get there?”
He shrugged like the answer was so simple. “Just get on a boat that’s going there.”
I smiled. “Yes, that makes perfect sense. But I am worried that not all the boats are safe. Some of the boats might have scary pirates on them that will be mean to me.”
“It’s a legitimate fear, Miss Tessa,” Mother Ivy was behind me, standing in the doorway of the room. Liam hadn’t noticed her either. He jumped up at the sound of her voice, his eyes on his feet.
Mother Ivy floated into the room, her long skirts kicking up little storms of filth as they glided along the dusty floor. Her presence was imposing. I wanted to mirror Liam and stand at attention with my eyes on the ground.
“Take the dishes, Liam.”
The boy did as he was told and hurried off.
“I hope you’ll make yourself at home here, Miss Tessa. You’ll need to stay for a while. First, you’re not well enough for anything yet. Second, it may take some time until we find you passage to St. Kitts. Port Winslow is something of a…” she trailed off, searching for the right words.
“A pirate haven?” I offered, showing her that I wasn’t as naïve as she may think.
“Well, if you want to put it that way. Port Winslow is a pirate haven. It has its own rules but it’s not the safest place, especially for a girl like you. We’ll need to be very selective of what crew we trust you with.”
Memories of Wrack’s attack flashed in my mind. I swallowed hard.
Mother Ivy continued. “We’ll have patience and wait for a good crew that’s headed to where you need to go. Don’t worry; there really are some honorable buccaneers left.” I saw her smile for the first time. It was chilling.
“Yes, I understand. But I don’t want to be a burden. If there is any way—”
“Fair is fair, Miss Tessa, and I’m glad you recognize that. Wait until you’re well, and then you can contribute a bit around here. That way you’ll earn your place to stay.”
“Contribute?
“You’d be a wonderful asset to my bordello, what with that pretty face of yours—though you are skinny. You could pocket the profits, save money for yourself.”
It sounded more like an offer than a demand. “Is there something else?”
Mother Ivy seemed unsurprised at my response. “It was worth asking,” she said, her thin lips smiling knowingly. “You can clean rooms and serve in the tavern. It will only buy you a bed to sleep on and food to eat.”
“I’ll make that trade gladly.”
* * * * *
After several days of resting, I regained my strength and Liam showed me around Port Winslow. I hoped to find some alternative to working at the bordello. The port was small, however, a haven for illegal trade and salacious activity. I returned from my tour dejected, admitting that I would rather work in Mother Ivy’s tavern than the other local businesses, which all seemed to be run by perverted drunkards.
I returned to Mother Ivy ready to earn my keep.
My bed was moved into a dormitory where the six other girls slept. In addition to lodging and food, I was given two new dresses, stockings, and shoes. The gowns were low cut and showy, but at least they were clean.
As I went about my duties at the bordello, I learned to silence my imagination. I did not want to wonder about what transpired in the rooms I tidied. Working in the tavern was better…and worse. Better because Liam was in the kitchen, ready with a smile and easy conversation. Worse because the patrons at the tavern were disgusting heathens who treated me like one of the prostitutes. Still, I looked forward to my work in the tavern because it allowed me to search the faces of the men and eavesdrop on conversations. I was bound to hear some bit of information about Nicholas, about the Banshee, or even Captain Black.
My new sisters wanted very little to do with me. Except Hannah. She constantly sought me out and treated me like a friend. And soon enough, I considered her a friend as well.
I cried myself to sleep every night. I was humiliated. I was a lady from London! How had I ever become a kitchen wench in a bordello?
I found a place on the island I liked to go to be alone. It was a large, grassy promontory jutting out over the ocean. The view was breathtaking and I could imagine my life at the bordello was nothing more than a distant nightmare. As one of the highest points on the island, it offered me the best vantage point to scan the horizon for ships, hoping to see something I could sail away on.
Watching the sunrise alone on the promontory became a tradition. I think Liam, Hannah, and the others understood my loneliness, for no one ever intruded on my sad ritual. Every morning I watched the delicate colors of the sky eat away at night’s blackness. The ocean reflected the transformation, an inky abyss coming alive in the light. One by one, stars disappeared. I remembered times when I found their beauty captivating and warm, but now they seemed like harsh pinpricks of searing light in the velvet sky and I was glad when they were all gone.
Cruel and severe, the early-morning stars mocked me. A billion stars in the sky, staring down at me, telling me how alone I was. Speaking a celestial language of their own that I could not understand. I was always surrounded, but forever alone.
Looking across the sea of stars, I concluded that time did not exist. Oh, the sun rose and set, the tides came in and out, but time didn’t really move. The world continued her repetitive rituals, but they had lost all meaning.
I looked to the lush jungle for any clue that would tell me I was wrong. The jade foliage was deceiving. It could be December or June—there was no difference. I was in an eternal summer, a garish recycling of the same day. Identical days without season, a perfect paradise on the side of every sunrise. It wasn’t natural.
A breeze ruffled my hair and the clouds shifted above, revealing a luminous sliver of a moon in the fading night. Its brilliant light glittered on the ocean and illuminated the beach below like a strip of quicksilver. A delicate moon—so daintily formed. It was a wonder that the small crescent emitted so much light. I remembered the last time I had seen this moon—this perfectly-shaped crescent in a twilit sky.
It was on the deck of the Banshee the night after the trial. Nicholas was next to me, holding my hand in his, his arm around me to keep me warm. Nicholas kissed me that night. That night was the last time I saw him.
My throat grew thick and I breathed unevenly. Silent tears rained down my cheeks, tears that came all too easily these days. I hugged my knees to my chest and rocked silently, feeling like the light of the moon uncovered everything I was hiding from myself.
I had lived in this hellish whorehouse for a month. This was more than a holiday, more than a vacation. Soon, another month would pass and then another. I was not going anywhere. This was permanent. The opportune ship with kind pirates that would take me to St. Kitts was not going to come. It didn’t exist. Mother Ivy was deceiving me, feeding me hope while she got her free labor. This island was now my life; the bordello was now my home. There was nothing for me but this.
The constant waves of the sea and the evergreen glow of the jungle could fool me into thinking that time was frozen, but the phases of the moon told the truth. Time was passing. And I was passing with it.
I felt more helpless now than I had in the brig of the Banshee.
I tried to ignore the moon from then on. How futile! Rather, I grew obsessed with the moon—searching for it every night, even watching for its filmy presence during the day, calculating its shape as it waned into darkness then grew full again, marking the passage of time in a way that I could not deny.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I dropped a plate of cabbage and ham in front of a man, set down a mug of ale, and walked towards the kitchen for my next order.
“Wait up, moppet,” he called, “This order’s not quite right.”
I hurried back to the table, afraid of a scolding from Mother Ivy if a customer I waited on was unhappy.
“I’m sorry sir, isn’t this what you ordered?”
“Oh, the food itself is fine, but I find something lackin’ in the service. Shouldn’t you give me a smile, wish me a pleasant day, and set aside a room for me?” His hand snaked around my waist.
I pulled away discreetly. “You certainly deserve a smile and to have a pleasant day,” I forced myself to say as pleasantly as I could. “Now eat up.” I tried leaving again.
“Hold up!” He caught my skirt and pulled me back. “How ’bout that room? Yer new around here, ain’t ya? I can tell yer a classy thing. And what I wouldn’t give to show you—”
I covered my ears. “Please, sir. I’m only a scullery maid. Only a scullery maid. If you would like a room for later, I’ll have Mother Ivy arrange something.” I tried to leave again but he still had my skirt.
“You are new around here. Gotta say, yer innocence is even more attractive than yer purty face. Here in this port, I get what I want.”
I pulled back, trying to free my skirt from his grip. He grabbed my wrist. The memory of Wrack in the brig bubbled up from where I buried it.
“Don’t touch me!” I flung a pewter mug at him, hitting him square on the nose and drenching him with ale.
The man stood up and struck me across my face. “Dammit, whore! Why did you do that?”
Mother Ivy appeared out of nowhere, her calm, ominous presence presiding over our dispute. “Miss Tessa, it appears you’ve been clumsy with Mayor Winslow’s order. Please get him a new one and make sure we do not charge him for any of his services today. And please prepare the suite for him and have Hannah waiting. I’m sure he’ll appreciate some relaxation after such a stressful supper. Will that satisfy you, Mayor?”
I nodded submissively and slipped away.
“No, Madam, that won’t satisfy me at all. You see, I like the looks of that one. Plus, she’s got spunk. Have her meet me in the suite, and I’ll pay for my supper.”
I paused on my way to the kitchen. This was Mayor Winslow, the man who owned this island. The man who ran this port. Keeping him happy was crucial for keeping a business hopping. Mother Ivy would cave. Mother Ivy would send me to him. I would have to run.
“Oh, mayor, I am glad to hear that you admire my taste in who I hire. I certainly pride myself in being a good judge of character. You’ve been away, so you don’t know the entire situation here. Miss Tessa is a pretty little thing and she’s a good waitress. Keeps the tavern running smoothly, even if she is not all too generous with her kindness. She’s lovely to look at and that’s why she’s here. Whet everyone’s appetite a bit. But the thing is, she’s doesn’t exactly satisfy customers outside of the kitchen. And I won’t have my customers unsatisfied. It would ruin my reputation. She stays in the kitchen. She’ll bring you your food and Hannah will be waiting.”
I hadn’t expected her protection. I exhaled and scampered off to the kitchen for a new plate of ham and cabbage, vowing to do my best from now on.
* * * * *
After I was finished working, I lay awake in bed. My eyes drifted to the empty bed next to me—Hannah’s bed. She was with the mayor now. I felt responsible. I felt sick. I tried to tell myself that the mayor—and other clients—weren’t like Wrack. Hannah had chosen this life—though I am sure poverty forced her decision. Still, she never complained.
I rolled over and tried not to think about Hannah and the mayor. I tried not to think about anything.
A loud crack sounded from down in the tavern. I heard a woman scream then raised male voices, then sounds of a scuffle. Another crack sounded. Then another.
“Was that a gunshot? That was a gunshot,” a girl two beds away said.
“Where’s Mother Ivy?”
“Hide under your bed!”
“Everyone calm down,” I shouted over the commotion. “We need to figure out what’s happening.”
“There was a gunshot. I heard a gunshot!”
“Ladies, sit down.” Mother Ivy appeared in the doorway holding a candle. She, too, was in her nightdress. “It would seem that something violent is happening down in one of our rooms. Now who are we missing?”
“Hannah!�
�� I told her. “Hannah is with the mayor.”
“Anyone else?”
The girls still clung to each other, screaming and crying.
Mother Ivy raised her voice. “Sit down on your own bed so we know who is downstairs. You have sisters in trouble. Sit down now!”
Everyone sat.
She noticed two empty mattresses.
“That one’s Hannah’s.” I pointed to the empty mattress next to mine.
Mother Ivy turned her attention to the other empty bed. “Is this bed Penelope’s?”
Penelope was a curvy girl, no more than fifteen.
Thundering footsteps pounded up the stairs and Penelope entered the dormitory a second later.
Mother Ivy hustled the girl into the room. “What’s happening?”
Penelope took a deep breath, “A man broke in. I think he’s going to kill the mayor.”
“Liam!” Mother Ivy yelled. “Liam!”
The boy appeared.
“Liam, get the muskets. One for me, one for you.” Liam ran down the hall and Mother Ivy followed him.
Penelope fell to the ground in hysterics, babbling about a man with a gun. The other girls huddled around her, trying to comfort her.
“Where’s Hannah? Did you see Hannah?” I asked.
Penelope pressed her eyes closed, black tears smearing down her face. “Oh, Hannah. Hannah was in there when the shots went off.”
I rushed off, ready to rescue my friend. I had no idea how I would do such a thing, but my legs were in action before my brain was.
Hearing voices, I halted halfway down the stairs where I could listen while staying hidden from view.
“It’s not my fault!” It was the mayor. He was pleading.
An angry voice roared back, “The way I see it, this is your island. You’re responsible for everything that happens on it. Everything.”
I heard glass break and the sounds of fists landing. There was tumbling and moaning.
