The Grey Lady Ch. 10

This is Chapter 10 of a continuing story. Granted, the entire story may make more sense if you have read Chapters 1-9, however, it is not necessary in order to enjoy this story.

Nevertheless, I hope that you find Chapter 10 enjoyable and will even look forward to the next chapter of The Grey Lady. Thank you.

Sesame

*****

It was questionable as to whether or not he was pleased. Those words were no sooner spoken than time stopped. Granted, she had not expected him to pick her up and swing her around. Fatherhood was not necessarily a situation that one associated with a pirate.

If the truth were known, she had actually expected anger from him. Anger at being tied down. Anger at being forced to face facts, face life. After all, there were consequences for everything and either reaction made sense. Yes, she had expected anger from him. Happiness would have been acceptable too. Yet here she stood, waiting for some reaction from him. She wanted to scream at Jake. 'Say something! Get mad! Angry! Happy! Something! Anything!'

Instead, he had stood for a moment quietly thinking. Perhaps he was mentally counting backwards as if hoping that she could possibly be mistaken. Certainly, the smile that he gave her had been a weak one, and she absolutely didn't believe it. If that was any indication, then he was not happy.

In a way, neither was she. Unmarried, uncertain of her past, and now expecting a child. All three together multiplied the problem. 'You play with fire and you are bound to get burned.' Those words echoed in her head, haunting her. And Jake was the flame.

But, good God! Such a result should not surprise either one of them. A thought crossed her mind. Just how many little bastards did the man have floating around in various ports? Such a bitter thought, it surprised her for a moment as she considered the consequences of their actions. In all reality they both should have expected that this was the probable conclusion.

The longer she stood there the harder it was to accept his lackluster response. Her life had become a series of life-changing instances. From waking up on the Grey Lady and not knowing who she was or where she came from, the rape by Jake and eventually becoming his whore, the attempted rape by Pete, the battle with the Ramrod and attack by DuFey, and her having to kill Carter, all of these things had changed her life, changed who she was, or thought that she had been. And now, here was something big, something that would change both of their lives. Or would it? Jake could very easily dump her at the nearest port and continue on.

The thought scared her and she felt her heart beating hard as if trying to escape her breast. Jake wasn't dangerous to her. After all, he had never hit her or shown her anything but gentleness or passion -- not including the original rape, and for that he had apologized. Actually, the only violence he had exhibited was to those that had harmed her. So, she wasn't afraid that he would injure her. Rather it had to be that she was afraid that Jake would abandon her. If that happened, then what would happened to her and the baby?

He said nothing. With sure steps he crossed over to the trunk where his clothes were kept, his movements forceful as he jerked it open and pulled out a clean shirt, or at least one that was not covered in blood and knife holes. She watched as he quickly redressed, the grimace that he made told her that he really shouldn't go back out. Instead he should take it easy -- after all, he had been knifed in his back along with his hand being injured, yet he didn't seem to want to hear anything else that she had to say.

"Jake, you shouldn't ..." was all that she got out before he cut her off, his voice terse.

"There's too much left to do. We reach Wexling at dusk tomorrow. Now is not the time to appear weak. McCandle will be waiting, watching us arrive and I'll be damned if I let him have the Grey Lady!" There was anger in the words that he spoke, his actions sharp and his tone bitter and she wondered if it was aimed at McCandle or her. Or maybe both of them.

And then he was gone, slamming the door of the cabin behind him. The atmosphere in the room suddenly seemed cool. She didn't feel like going topside, or even seeing anyone. All she really wanted was to fall off the edge of the earth.

There was a soft knock on the door. Recognizing the rapping, she knew who it would be and the young face that greeted her answering of the door was not surprising.

"Cap't Jake sed that 'e 'as werk ta dew ta git reddy fer Wexling. 'e told me ta bring fud fer jest yew." Toby had a wide grin for her but she shook her head.

"I'm not really hungry tonight, Toby. Don't worry about me. You just go eat whenever you want." She tried to smile at the youngster but she suspected that hers was just as phony as was Jake's smile to her minutes earlier. Slowly the grin faded from Toby's boyish face and he hesitantly nodded and wished her a good night before leaving to head to the galley. As she closed the door, there was a big lump in her stomach, and she knew that it wasn't the baby. It was all her fears and doubts balled up and heavy inside her like a lead weight. After all, she was not really showing. At least not that much so at the moment, only she and Jake knew about her secret. There may be those of the crew that suspected such, but none knew for certain. She rested her hand on her belly, feeling the almost imperceptible swell where the new life grew.

Needing something to do, she spent some time straightening up the cabin and organizing things. The contents of the first aid kit were still on the floor from where she had strewn things around in an effort to patch Jake up. She stowed everything back where it belonged in the kit, meticulously rolling the bandages and such, until she finally got it in order and returned the case back to its rightful place in the trunk. Next was quickly putting the sewing kit back together, and things like that. Of course, there was nothing of hers that really needed to be packed for Wexling since she had nothing other than the clothes that she wore.

Still she was determined to remain busy in an attempt to keep her mind off of things. Of course, it didn't work. Periodically her vision would blur with tears and she would angrily wipe them away, hoping to wipe away the memory of the unhappy look on Jake's face. That didn't work too well. Instead it haunted her. Despite his reassurances that she belonged to him and not to worry, worry she did.

The faint coppery taste of blood still filled the air of the room reminding her of what had just happened. She had killed someone, though it was all to save Jake. Still, she had to get away from all of this. What with the fight with DuFey and now Carter, this was not the kind of place to be raising baby. A child should be raised in a real home, not aboard a pirate ship where men would just as soon slit your throat as say good morning.

The enormity of everything finally caught up with her and she slowly crumpled to the floor as the tears began to flow. Why? Her shoulders shook as she cried and fought to keep her grief silent. The last thing that she wanted was someone checking in on her. For once she was glad to be alone.

Finally cried out, she gathered herself together and headed to bed. Usually Jake undressed her but this evening she was all alone. She certainly couldn't turn to Toby to unbutton her. She just felt defeated. Though the dress was not really made for sleeping in, she did not have much choice. Carefully she climbed into the bunk and sighed, settling down for the night.

The bed seemed cold and lonely without him. Turning her back to the door, she curled up over to her side of the bunk and left room should Jake decide to come to bed. She closed her eyes and willed sleep to come. Slumber seemed elusive. Perhaps she had told him her news too soon. Should she have waited until they reached his house on Wexling? That was a useless question; it did no good to ponder such things. After all, one could not unring a bell.

Eventually, the day's events wore her out and she drifted off to sleep with dreams that seemed to haunt her. Her nocturnal visitor no longer appeared playful but instead gazed on her with sad eyes. No dancing and prancing as usual, instead he stood leaning against the railing, shaking his head at the turn of events as his once gay plumes drooped from his tricorn hat. Asleep she didn't see the door of the cabin open as her real-life pirate checked in on her. It was only a second and then he was gone, leaving her once again alone.

At one point she awoke in the middle of the night, and found herself still unaccompanied and in a cold bed, undisturbed, Samantha looked around the cabin as The Grey Lady swiftly raced to Wexling and her future. Overhead the lantern swung in time to the pitch of the ship. Nothing had really changed.

If only she could remember her past, perhaps even find a way back to Rabel. Then what? An unmarried woman expecting a baby? No one would have anything to do with her, especially if they found out that she had spent the missing time on a pirate ship and that the father of her child was the pirate captain. She had to face facts. No one would really want her -- not her missing family (if she even had one) nor apparently now Jake.

Her eyes, gritty and red, felt as if they were filled with sand and a quick splash of tepid water from the basin didn't seem to help. Overhead was the faint sound of men working. Jake was up there with them, avoiding her. Maybe trying to figure out a way to dump her and...

Sighing she returned to the bed and once again tried to sleep. It was a fitful attempt and she finally gave up and watched the streaky dawn that appeared through the porthole.

*****

Wexling! The Underbelly of Pirate Life. This was a moniker that any true pirate would be proud of.

Hundreds of years from now most people would forget that it had ever existed, becoming a footnote in the annals of pirate history. A rumor of bygone times like that of El Dorado, or Atlantis, or the Fountain of Youth. Places that could no longer be found and so they must have never really existed. Places merely whispered on the lips of others. Stories passed down, told around campfires, tales traded over the odd pint, embellished until the facts were stretched and twisted and began to lose all credence of truth. Until eventually it would be dropped, branded as merely a fanciful story told by drunken sailors and hopeful treasure seekers.

Yet in the setting sun, on the horizon was the smudge that proclaimed itself Wexling. In the dusk the port almost looked like a dark jewel, the sky vibrant orange and yellow and red. Dark blues and purples chased the sun from overhead towards the western horizon.

Through his spyglass Jake could already see a few people lining the docks in anticipation of the arrival of the ship and crew of The Grey Lady. Lookouts on land would have already spied the ship as it had appeared on the horizon, watching her approach. Each ship had it own distinctive silhouette and the men would have easily recognized the Grey Lady and passed the news of their arrival to the townsfolk. Nobody, and no ship, ever snuck into Wexling.

From this distance the dirty town looked almost unblemished though Jake knew all too well that upon closer inspection the truth would become apparent. Already the crew perked up, their homes nestled on this island that sat amongst the rocky shoals that made entry into this port a tricky maneuver.

Founded by John Wex in 1793, the young man was blown off course and landed on the beach along the underside of the small island whereupon he rightly named it Wex Island. Sometime later -- the exact period of time is still under dispute -- a wayward ship of sailors of questionable standing (in other words, pirates) discovered Wex and his island and had other ideas as to its name. Wex Island soon became Desperation Island though they did allow Wex to retain the port of Wexling and christened it by promptly hanging the man so that his bloated body would have a view of his beloved namesake.

Soon every pirate ship unable to make it to Kingston or what was left of Port Royal was putting in to Wexling where they were warmly welcomed, within reason. Quickly a Tribunal was formed to help settle arguments between the ruffians that frequented the place. Businesses sprang up -- places where a pirate fresh from a raiding party and with a pocket full of coin from his share of the take could happily part with it. Maybe purchase a new pair of pants or obtain a gold tooth. Perhaps get a sharp new tattoo at Pedro's or spend the night in the arms of Carlotta or Dolores or one of the other girls that frequented The Scuttlebutt, where the rum flowed freely and the occasional argument over a game of One-Eyed Dick was settled with a bullet or a knife.

Entrance into the port was tricky and the waters leading into the bay were full of ships that had not paid attention to the shoals that lined the crooked passage. Many was the time that some young, inexperienced pirate captain would come sailing into Wexling arrogantly, and conceitedly thinking that he could show off to the port citizens just what a skillful sailor he was, only to find his ship at the bottom of the bay while he and his crew swam for the dock. Laughing pirates on the shore would then pick up extra coin by savaging what they could off the wrecks, much to the chagrin of the embarrassed pirate.

"Harden up! Hauling Wind! Watch that jury rig!"

Bilge stood on the poop deck at the helm calling out orders as the men jumped to obey. Neatly the Grey Lady slipped closer to land. Because of the damages received from the skirmish with the Ramrod, it would take an excellent sailor like Jake or Bilge to bring in the ship without scraping her hull on the jetties visible in the breakers on either side of the ship. Both men worked well together, easily sailing through the treacherous waters. Each anticipated what the other would do so no action was wasted, no order repeated.

Samantha stood transfixed as the port slowly came closer. By her side stood Toby pointing out various points of interest to the woman that he had come to love. Samantha had become his first case of a boyish crush. In fact, the young boy would have done anything for her. At this moment he felt so adult and knowledgeable as he pointed out the various businesses, buildings and people to his charge.

"That thar steaple o're ther is tha tallest buildin' in Wexling. It's tha church but it's used as ah lookout tew. It 'as purty winders in it, all colorful like. Only ah few uv 'em got broke. Sumbody said that sum uv tha men wuz shootin' at a bordin' party."

Toby spoke proudly as he described the multifunctional church, as if he himself had built the thing. The steeple easily made the building rise up to a height of about four stories, which seemed impressive for this smallish port town and she could faintly make out where a church bell rested in the spire.

As their ship gradually drew closer, more and more details of Wexling were visible. There was excitement in the air as the crew quickly jumped to each order shouted out from Jake and Bilge. In the approaching dusk Samantha could see a welcoming party that awaited them. Some were waving, usually women that were dressed in rather revealing clothes. As if trying to entice the men to jump ship, many of them would flash bits of skin or flip their hair as they called out to different men on the Grey Lady.

Meanwhile the men were dressed much like the men that she had met on the ship, wearing dirty shirts and mismatched pants. Some wore a kerchief on their head, hiding a dirty scalp. Here and there was a missing arm, or a hook hand, or a stump and crutch, or a patch over a lost eye. Still, there were plenty of men that appeared to have all their body parts. They leaned disinterested against crates and barrels that littered the dock, as if not really caring about the ship or just what merchandise the Lady might contain.

"Ah sees Press! Hey Press! Press!" The youngster leaned way over the railing of the ship until Samantha thought that he might actually fall into the water. " 'e's wavin' back See 'im?" Toby was excited as he continued to wave at the crowd, grinning from ear to ear. Quickly she scanned the dockside looking to see just who might be waving back, which appeared to be almost everyone.

"Toby, everyone is waving. Just who is Press?"

"He is the dark man in the carriage being pulled by the beautiful pair of chestnut horses." Jake's voice was low in her ear and she quickly searched the gathering crowd until she located the man.

Press was thin and appeared almost distinguished, dressed in a bright white suit while perched on the front seat of a white open-air carriage. He politely waved with one hand while the other one held the reins to a pair of sharp-looking chestnut horses.

"Oh..." She turned to thank him and found Jake gone, yelling at one of the men to catch a stray rope. He was acting as if last night had not happened. Could it be that he was no longer angry with her? It was all confusing. All day he had avoided her. She had headed topside with Toby earlier in the afternoon and had noted that more of the repairs had been done to the Lady. Yet nowhere was there a sign of Jake. Bilge, she saw plenty of, but Jake was nowhere to be seen. Later when she returned to the cabin, she could tell that in fact Jake had been in there and had changed his clothes. Quietly she had folded the dirty ones and packed them away as there would not be time for her to clean and dry them. Maybe once they reached his home, she would have the chance to do so.

Yet as they drew near their destination, Toby had escorted her topside to watch the entrance into Wexling. The boy had assured her that this would be something that she would not want to miss and so Samantha dutifully followed him up on deck and let him lead her to the port side bow of the ship. Slowly the dark smudge on the horizon had grown as they drew closer and closer until they now were near enough for her to get a good look at the pirate port.

"Captain!" Bilge called to Jake as he skillfully steered the ship into the small bay, easing towards the berth. Jake worked his way towards where Bilge was.

"Problem?"

"For you, possibly." Grinning the bald head tilted towards the other end of the dock. Puzzled, Jake glanced to where Bilge indicted and all too quickly saw trouble. Standing on the dock was Margarita. Damn! This was going to be a sticky situation.

Margarita was all woman and knew it well. From time to time he had found the woman a delightful diversion. With her dark hair and black eyes, she was someone that enjoyed sex and the two of them occasionally would spend a pleasurable evening in each other's company. Her favorite position was bending over on all fours while Jake fucked the woman's arse, spanking her plump ass cheeks. And more than once his back would carry scratches from the woman's rather sharp fingernails after she had exuberantly raked them down his back as he plowed her furrow. But it had all been for fun, at least as far as Jake was concerned.

Margarita would not be happy with this newest development. Neither would Samantha. Even from this distance he could see that the woman was wearing her best dress, the one that accentuated her "assets" to their advantage. Jake glanced back at his First Mate and was rewarded with a grin and a chuckle from the man as he shook his head.

"Uh, Bilge..." He knew that it was hopeless but he thought that he would give it a try.