Johnny’s breath hitched in his throat. She would survive this, wouldn’t she? She had to. He couldn’t bear the thought of realizing his feelings for her and then losing her. He wouldn’t even let himself think of such a notion.
“Knock knock,” a voice called. Johnny immediately recognized it as Marion Bouvier’s, and though he didn’t respond, she entered anyways. “I have supplies for you, Johnny. Rum, hot and dry towels, bandages…” She let her voice trail on as she caught the utter look of worry in his chocolate brown eyes. “Anything else you might need?”
“A change of clothes for her,” Johnny said, going over to the supplies. “Something loose, if you have it, please.”
“Of course,” Marion said, nodding before disappearing out the door once again.
Johnny began to survey the wounds, and from what he could see, nothing looked to drastic. No cut was dangerously deep so it didn’t seem necessary to wake her in order to clean the wounds. Before he undressed her, he swallowed and hesitated for a moment. He had always been skillful when it came to disrobing members of the fairer sex, but she was different. He had known so from the moment he had laid eyes upon her. Johnny had always imagined undressing her, but never in such a setting. Despite this, he knew he had to make sure everything was clean.
Marion helped him when she returned, and in the next hour, every wound was dressed and Izzy was wearing a loose tunic and pantaloons. Though she was breathing, she had not woken up throughout the aid her body was being given. Johnny wasn’t sure if this was good or not. He tried not to think about it as he worked, but when he had finished, it was the only thing on his mind.
Marion seemed to have read his obvious distress, for she placed a comforting hand on his forearm. “As long as she is breathing,” she told him in her silky voice, “there is hope.”
Johnny glanced over at the woman, who was currently taking a seat next to him. Johnny, himself, was in a chair on the side of the bed with no plans to leave Izzy’s side any time soon. He said nothing, however, but his eyes seemed to say it all. He knew that what she had said was correct, but it didn’t make him feel better when she was still unconscious.
“May I ask,” Marion began, unsure if Johnny would take any offense to her question. “Who is she?”
Johnny sighed through his nose. How to explain Izzy to anyone? It was too complicated. So, he decided to go with the simplest answer he could muster. “She is the woman I love,” he told her.
It was also the truest.
Chapter 27
It had been four days when Izzy finally opened her eyes and kept them open. She felt comfortable, noticing covers wrapped around her body, a fluffy pillow underneath her head, a – And there was the pain. Oh God, the excruciating pain. What had happened, exactly? What did she remember? She closed her eyes once again, but as she thought about it, a lulling ache started to pulsate in the back of her head. She stifled a groan, but continued to focus.
Izzy knew she was in the eighteenth century, and if she had to guess, probably in the early seventeen hundreds – where the Age of Piracy was thriving. Johnny had been showing her around Tortuga, and then took her into a pub where she could try rum, a drink she had no fondness over. Whores had been trying to get his attention, but Johnny didn’t seem interested… They were talking, and then they –
Oh shit. They kissed. They kissed.
And then… She frowned as her eyes snapped back open. Men had grabbed her and others had grabbed Johnny so he couldn’t get to her. They had… they had taken her into the darkness, outside, where they began to –
She shut her eyes again. She didn’t want to remember. All she would say was that it was bad.
It was then that Izzy realized there was slight pressure around her waist. She frowned and glanced down, but due to the fact that the room she was currently in was dark, she couldn’t make anything out. She sighed through her nose in slight frustration, and instead, glanced to her side.
Johnny.
Johnny was lying next to her, completely and fully in slumber. His profile was sharp and relaxed. There was no worry, no anger, no flirtatious looks touching his features. He was completely calm and incredibly handsome in the shadows. He was here with her. Somehow, he had gotten her out of her trouble, brought her somewhere… He was with her. Johnny was lying next to her, his hand wrapped around her waist… She was so happy. She was so… relieved…
But now, she needed to find the restroom.
Izzy tried to slip out of Johnny’s grasp, but even in his sleep, he must have known what she was up to because his grip only tightened around her. She pushed her lips together to contain her giggles, and after a few more tries, managed to break free from the pirate. Johnny didn’t seem to like this because his brow pushed down and his lips curled into a frown, but he didn’t wake up. She smiled at the sight, trying not to let herself feel the pain as she stood up. It took her a long moment to get her balance, and though her knees were slightly shaky and she felt as though she might collapse, she managed to stay upright.
Now… to find the restroom.
As silently as she could, she walked across the room and opened the bedroom before opening it and slipping through the door frame. The first thing she noticed was the nice, wooden walls. They had to be in a house of some sort, not a ship. But where could they possibly be? This place seemed too nice for the likes of Tortuga…
Izzy cut her musings short as she searched for some sort of restroom. It took a few tries until she reached the correct room, and after doing her business, she stepped out, resuming her thoughts about where Johnny had brought her. Maybe this was his home. Maybe he had a home here on Tortuga. But… Something tickled her intuitive senses, telling her that while Johnny seemed comfortable here, he didn’t exactly own this place. When she found a case of stairs, she cautiously proceeded to head downwards. Nobody seemed to be awake yet, but after peering out a window, she knew it had to be at least six, seven o’clock in the morning. Izzy realized she had been staying on a third floor, so she continued to head down the stairs until she reached the bottom.
The young woman paused for a moment, tightening her grasp on the stair’s banister so she could temporarily rest her body. Though the pain wasn’t as searing, it was still strenuous to move after some time in bed. At the thought, she frowned. How long was she out, exactly? How many days had passed since that night?
Before she could ponder such a thought, voices coming from her left distracted her. They sounded… feminine… not dangerous, in the least. So, after another moment, she headed over down a hallway and into what appeared to be a dining room. Three different women sat around a nicely-made table with tea cups set in front of each of them. They all seemed happy, chuckling and smiling. Even though it was early in the morning, they still managed to look beautiful, which caused Izzy to wonder just how badly she looked at that moment.
The woman sitting at the head of the table was the first to notice her. She had straight black hair pulled up into an intricately-designed bun, smooth ivory skin, and clear, turquoise eyes. Her lips were full, her figure slender. She was wearing a sage green dress that revealed the curves of her body. When her eyes caught Izzy’s, she smiled warmly at the young woman.
“Bonjour,” she greeted in flawless French. Izzy felt the other two women look her way, and as subtly as she could, she tried to swallow her nervousness. “My name is Marion,” she said, her accent thick. “You have had all of us worried here. Please. You should sit.” She swept her arm gracefully at the empty chair to her right, and looked at her with a kind gaze of expectancy.
Izzy hesitated for a moment, but nodded a couple of times and took the offered seat. She smiled humbly, and blinked a couple of times before looking at Marion. She was exquisite. “I,” she said, and blushed, her voice croaking. “I’m Isabelle, but you can call me Izzy.”
“Oh, I know,” Marion said as she looked at Izzy with the same smile on her face. “Johnny has told me so much about you.”
“All goo
d things, I hope,” Izzy mumbled, a light pink caress touching the tips of her cheeks. She folded her arms on the surface of the table as a soft smile touched her lips.
“Ah oui,” Marion assured the young woman, nodding her head a couple of times. “He never mentioned the way you speak, though. Very different. Where are you from?”
“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.”
Chapter 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 any 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 t
o 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, his 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.”
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