Justified Treason (Endless Horizon Pirate Stories, Book 1) (10 page)

Chapter 4

Assure

As told by Charlotte Wetherby

I
awoke to the light of warm morning sun. The clouds had cleared and the air was already steaming with humidity. Just as I settled into a romantic trance with the view, Margret came into my room. It was Mary’s day off so Margret would be cleaning up and dressing me for church. There was no sensitivity in the old maid’s rough hands, and if she ever smiled it seemed forced and uncomfortable.

She made the bed and fluffed the pillows with a rough efficiency that resembled the work of cleaning a trough, and it was with the same rushed concern that she tightened my corset and brushed my hair.

“Must you be so rough, Margret?” I flinched as the brush ripped through my tangles.

She breathed out a disgruntled sigh and huffed through her teeth, “If you would only sit still, my dear.”

“I am not a hog on the farm, Margret.” I spoke with a childlike humor, but she clenched in irritation.

Margret finished my last curl with great relief and sighed, “Go now child. Your father will be waiting to take you to church.” She shook her head in aggravation as I walked out the door.

My father and Hester both greeted me with warm smiles at the breakfast table, and we engaged in pleasant small talk over fluffy berry muffins and orange juice. No one mentioned Lawrence Braddock or the ferocious buccaneer break-in. Everyone carried on as if life was what it once was, but my life was undergoing such vast changes that the normal activities seemed out of place. The mysterious man that changed my heart forever had swept out with the tide, and the stranger that I was expected to marry would be arriving in a few days. No matter what was to happen next, I knew my life would never be the same.

As we neared the church, I noticed a few armed guards standing watch outside the entry. I was curious about their presence but my father led us inside without any inquiry over the matter. As we walked down the aisle to our seats, I noticed three sea tattered buccaneers sitting on the last pew. My heart fluttered at the sight. Their hats were off but their hair was long and wild, their clothes were rugged, and they smelled of rum and sea salt. It always thrilled me to see these types of men make their random appearances in church, for not only did it stir my curiosity, but I enjoyed watching the stuffy reaction of the common folk in town.

There were a few more guards standing inside the church, and I noticed that Paul Patterson was sitting up front with his arm around Maureen. I figured the guards were there for her peace of mind.

The preacher read from the book of Matthew and I listened intently as he preached the parable of the wise and the foolish builders. After telling us about how the wise man builds his house on the rock he read, “And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock.”

I pondered the verse with great value. How great would it be to rest stable and still in your heart, no matter what storms brew around you; like solid rock. The preacher continued on with the verse about the foolish man that built his house on the sand and told of how it washed away in the weather. I thought that it must be more work to acquire such a solid foundation, but the security would be well worth the effort.

As the preacher went on I began to wonder what God would think of my feelings for Sterling Bentley. Knowing my love for him was forbidden in the world in which we live, I hoped God would see past the worldly divides and view him the way I did. I thought our bond was strong enough to withstand the rain, the flood and the winds of the world and prayed that God would be with me during my struggle.

When the sermon ended the buccaneers quickly slipped out, leaving the rest of the crowd to gossip over their presence. I thought to myself how hypocritical it was for the people to be in the house of God while casting judgment upon those men when Jesus himself accepted men of all kinds.

The people were snickering about how rugged and vile they were, and gossiped about what sinful acts they might have committed the day before or what deceitful deeds they could be onto next. I thought that those things could be true just as easily as they could not be, and now that I had found safety and comfort in the arms of someone who would be judged as harshly, I knew there was more to a man than what the eye could see. Aside from all the accusations, those men sat peacefully and listened to the word. It’s an effort they did not have to make, and as far as I was concerned, they were alright for that.

As the crowd exited past the guards at the entrance I heard Mister Patterson thank them for their service, and when Maureen looked up from her husband’s arm I saw the bruise on her face. My heart skipped a beat as I took in the dreadful sight. Her entire right cheek was darkened with a purple and blue bruise that curved around her eye which was puffy and swollen from the blow.

It was disheartening to see such a beautiful face damaged by such an awful gesture and my heart filled with a pang of sorrow and curiosity. How could Sterling have anything to do with this? He said that he protected her, but does Maureen know that? I was eager to know what in the world really happened, what did Maureen see, and what did she know?

My father took a moment to speak with Paul Patterson before they headed home. Paul and Maureen were around Hester’s age, and Paul was just as handsome as Maureen was beautiful. Her icy pale skin was as smooth as imaginable, her dark hair was thick with lavish curls, and her thin lips defined a mesmerizing smile.

Maureen remained quietly tucked under Paul’s strong arm as the men spoke, while Hester and I waited near the gate.

Hester turned to me, shook her head and sighed, “Oh
, it is a true shame to see that woman so battered. I feel deeply for the fear she must have experienced.” I nodded my head in agreement as Hester continued, “Seeing those wretched hounds in there today must have stirred her nerves with frenzy. You know, she has not relayed a bit of information to the men. I feel she would be much more comfortable speaking with a woman.”

I agreed with Hester’s comment, but I suddenly felt terribly guilty for knowing the man that participated in the damage. I reminded myself that I was still unsure of the details and fought my contradicting emotions as I attempted to repress my doubts.

My father came back over to meet with us and shook his head in shame before he announced, “I have invited the Pattersons to have dinner with us a few nights this week. Construction on their parlor begins on Thursday and they should not have to worry about the inconvenience of dust and ruckus.”

Hester smiled and hugged her husband as she sighed, “What a wonderful gesture, Wallace. You truly are a man of honor.”

X

The next few days rolled by slow and lazily without any excitement. Girard, my harpsichord instructor, assigned me a songwriting assignment so I spent most of my time alone in the music room practicing. Mary had been quite busy and seemed somewhat aloof, so we had not had any enjoyable time together since Saturday’s secret adventure. I was missing her company.

Thursday morning’s sky was striped with wispy clouds, and the weather seemed a few degrees cooler than it had been. Cooler weather always came as a relief, for the heavy dresses I had to wear were terribly suffocating in the thick humid air. I stood on my veranda to feel the soothing breeze and admired the view while I waited for Mary. The ocean beamed in the warm morning sunlight and I inhaled the fresh air with a heart full of hope.

When I heard my bedroom door open I smiled in delight. Mary came in with her nose scrunched and her smile looked as if she was keeping a silly secret. Oh, how I loved her delightful personality. Once she had the bath full, I got into the warm water and relayed to her all of the daydreams that I could not share with anyone else. Mary was the only one that I could be my true self with, and I loved the way she floated right along in the river of my forbidden fantasy. I sighed in a breath of whimsical romance as Mary assured, “I have a feeling that man would fight a dragon to get back to you, Miss Charlotte.”

I knew that he would.

Mary had not yet told me about her relationship with Faron Flynn, and though I had been trying not to pry, my curiosity could no longer be contained. I smiled slyly at her as I reminded, “I believe you have a story to tell me, Miss Mary.”

“Oh deary, I had hoped you would have forgotten.” Mary giggled, but as she continued washing my hair an air of seriousness overcame her. She expressed the same urgency for secrecy that I had placed on her and confessed that she had not relayed the tale since it had happened three years ago.

“It seems like another lifetime when I lived in
Ireland. There was a short time when it was beautiful and we were free to farm and enjoy our families. Faron Flynn lived up the road with his family and we had played in the field together as children. Life and times changed over the years and I had found myself alone working at a tavern near the coast. Though that time of my life was dark, I had learned to be fierce and protect myself, traits I would never exchange.”

I listened intently, and noticed that Mary’s Irish accent became more profound as she carried on.

“A time of war came upon the land and a man I frequently served told me he was leaving for the island of Barbados. The picture he painted sounded of more promise than the darkened gloom that fell upon the green pastures of my youth. He told me he would pay my passage if I married him, and in a way, I am ashamed to say I did it. I packed my case of belongings and headed to the new world at the side of a man I hardly knew.

“The ship was named
Ivory
and it was full of people of all ages gambling their lives for a chance at freedom. The rooms were small, the meals were tight, and the stench was dreadful. Among the uncomfortable amenities and uncertain future, I found comfort in one familiar face. Wouldn’t you be surprised to know that Faron Flynn was on that same ship. We had not seen each other since we were young and we hugged in great reunion.

“Let me tell you, Charlotte, he was not quite as muscular as he is now, but that Faron Flynn has always been a looker.” Mary winked with a half-smile.

We moved on to the dressing area as her story continued. “As the
Ivory
sailed on, Mister Caffrey, my husband at the time, showed himself to be a cruel man. He was forceful and demeaning in ways that made me think I would have been better off staying at that awful bar he picked me up from.

“The only light I had on that ship was the moments I would get to speak with Faron. He had boarded the
Ivory
as an indentured servant for a man that ran a plantation in Barbados. He was ready for the hard work and looked forward to the patch of land he would acquire in the end, but our visits were brief and my suffering was long. Mister Caffrey’s abuse became routine until one night he struck me with his hand. I had been a tough lass and defended myself in the past, but being entrapped on that ship as that awful man’s wife left me with no hope for escape.

“The next day Faron saw the mark on my face. He looked into my sad eyes and without question he charged at Mister Caffrey and threw him against the wall. Faron pummeled on his face with harsh punches that left him with no chance to defend himself. The other men aboard dissolved the skirmish and sided with the man that beat his wife, for I was nothing more than his property. As for Faron, he was also but his master’s property and was punished as such for his act of violence.

“Each trapped by our own lowly ranking aboard that seemingly hellbound ship, Faron and I did not speak for days. Yet even with the lashes on his back, Faron focused a relentless scowl at Mister Caffrey and was sure to bump into him as they would pass in the halls.

“The next week was the loneliest time of my life and my husband became ill. Many people aboard the ship were sick from the terrible conditions and Mister Caffrey was one of them. He died in the small room we shared and I was ashamed to admit that I was relieved by his passing. The men aboard wrapped his body in a cloth, tied ropes around the seams, and tossed his body overboard. There was a brief service to wish peace upon his passing and I cried alone on the deck. Though I was free from the binds of his cruelty, my uncertain future became as bleak as the night.” 

Completely washed away by the details of Mary’s memoir, I sat in the vanity chair so she could work on my hair.

“I had never felt so alone and unsure; on my way to a new land with broken hope and a broken heart. One night I had ventured up to the stern for a breath of fresh air and I found Faron sitting alone on a bench. For the first time since he was punished, we were free to talk without interruption and I thanked him for his protection. He was frustrated that he couldn’t do more, and as we talked, he mentioned his distaste for the man that hired him. I remember him saying,
I don’t know how well I’ll be taking orders from an unjust coxcomb, while workin’ meself to death for a farfetched promise.
Apparently some of the other indentured servants had told him tales of men that never received their land and wasted their sweat to make the rich men richer. I asked him what else he would do with his life, but he did not want to elaborate. I did not push the issue.