PRELUDE TO EL LOBO DEL MAR

[Welsh Wench]

Honour stayed in their room after Jack had left. Her stomach was tied in knots from the events of the past few days. She had a tray sent up to her room but only picked at the food. The goodbyes were awkward. Jack apologizing for leaving her but the enthusiasm on his face showed that his mind was elsewhere. He hardly noticed the stilted way in which Honour said goodbye.

Staying in the room afforded her the opportunity to avoid Cade. She knew he would be in the tavern. And she didn't feel up to facing him or the awkwardness that would follow. She looked down and touched the diamond and emerald necklace that Jack had given her. Just like a man to think that a gift would make things right. The name-calling. The aborted strikes he almost laid on her. And finally pulling a gun on her.
She shuddered to think what would happen if she hadn't kicked the gun out of his hand.

And she was beginning to realize there was more at stake than just her own life. She pulled the covers back and hugged her pillow. She cried until there were no more tears left and she fell into an exhausted sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning the sun shone through her curtains. Something was knocking...and a whining.
'Muir..stop that scratching...'
Then she realized that Muir was still on the ship with Briggs.
She sat up suddenly and realized someone was knocking at the door. Hurriedly she put on her dressing gown and opened the door slightly.
"Mrs. Wolfe...Honour, ma'am..it's me. Briggs."
She opened it fully and a ball of fur came hurtling towards her. She laughed for the first time in days and said, "Muir!"
Briggs shifted uneasily from side to side and said, "Yes, well...he was beginning to chew various boots on the ship so we all took a vote and decided instead of becoming chum, the pooch would be better off with you."
Muir licked her face as she laughed. "Quite allright. Muir, you are just what I need right now!"
Muir ran and got Jack's shirt and dropped it at her feet.
"I'm sorry, Muir. He--he went away."
Briggs also handed her an envelope. "Captain left this bank draft for ye to purchase the land ye talked about. Made out to ye, Mrs. Wolfe. Just put it over at the moneyhouse and they can handle the transfer for ye. Should be plenty there, Ma'am."
She took it and said quietly, "Thank you, Briggs."
She hesitated, "Oh, Briggs?"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Briggs...would you..would you please give Puddin' a hug for me?"
He tipped his hat and said. "Ma'am..."
And with that he left.

Honour walked out the front door and as she did, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped a mile.
"Cade!"
He looked at her softly and said, "You were gone when I woke up."
She looked down and said, "About last night..."
"We need to tell him."
"Tell...who?"
"Tell Jack. About us."
"Cade..."
"It's only right, love. We need to tell him so we can make our plans."
"Plans...?"
"Honour, look over at the harbor. What do you see?"
"Ships."
"See the one second from the right? Next to the Dark Vexation?"
"Dark Vexation? Is Captain James Blake in port?"
"Yes, but that is besides the point. The ship next to her is the Gryphon. She was on auction and she is now mine. I'm telling Jack I'm going on my own account now. No more being under Jack's thumb, Honour. We can be free to do what we want. Jack will just have to understand. Now that I am a captain of my own ship, Mad Jack Wolfe and I are equals."
She murmured, "He certainly taught you well, Cade. In all respects."
He took her hands. "Where is Jack?"
She cautiously removed her hands from his. "He's gone."
"Gone? Gone where?"
"To Martinique. To find someone named Armand LaFork."
"Armand LaFourche?"
"Yes..I guess that is the name."
Cade whistled low. "He's really going to do it He's really going to look for the Ancients' chest."
"You know about it?"
"He's talked about it long since I can remember. He's going as loony as LaFourche."
"He'll be back in four day's time. Cade...."
"Darling, I have to go. I have to close the deal on the ship and take care of some business in St Lucia. I'll be back in a week and then we can tell Jack."
"But Cade....."
He kissed her and said, "Don't worry. It will all work out."

And with that he walked down towards the docks.
Honour sat down suddenly trying to fight the rising tide of nausea. 'This just keeps escalating.'
She touched her silver chain and whispered, 'Mother..please. Help me! Which way am I to go?'
She was beginning to suspect her life was about to undergo some changes. But deal with the present now and worry about the future later....

[Welsh Wench]

"Monsieur Picou?"
"Oui?"
"I'm here to meet you regarding the sale of your plantation."

Monsieur Picou looked her up and down and said, "I was expecting both you and your husband, Mrs. Wolfe. Has he been detained?"
Honour laughed a bit self-consciously. "Oh, I'm not Mrs. Wolfe! I apologize for not introducing myself. My name is Mrs. Castlemaine. Captain Wolfe was called away and Mrs. Wolfe changed her mind and joined him. But their circumstances have changed. She persuaded him to migrate to the New World. Boston, specifically. She inherited money from her father and convinced the good captain to settle there. I am her cousin twice removed. She told me of the land she was interested in and I decided I may want to invest in Barbadian property so I decided to keep her appointment."
He looked doubtful. "You are so young. You have money?"
Honour nodded. "My late husband--may he rest in peace--left me well off. We were emigrating to Barbados and he drank the water and died. Typhoid."
Monsieur Picou expressed his sympathy. "I'm so sorry."
Honour affected an air of resigned grief.
"Yes. I was devastated. We were only married a short while. But I know Byron would want me to carry on. And he had dreams of investing in sugar cane. I really would love to fulfill his dying wish."
Monsieur Picou wiped a tear from his eye for the young 'widow'.
"Then let us go in to see the house."

Honour gazed at the grandeur of the manor house. A verandah wrapped around three sides of the house. A second balcony was supported by six Grecian columns. The stairs of brick led to a massive front door in oak. The red brick shone in the sunlight.
"Monsieur Picou! This is beautiful!"
He beamed with pride. "Oui! But since my wife died, I want to go back to France. That is where I want to spend my last days."
He opened the front door. A marble staircase greeted them. It ascended up the middle and then split into two staircases. He led her into the parlor which was furnished with lovely furniture. A piano stood in one corner.
"Do you play, Madame?"
She ran her finger lightly over the keys. It had been so long since she sat down to play.
"A bit."

The French doors looked out over a brick patio and onto the ocean. The sheer curtains blew in the breeze.
He led her to the formal dining room. A solid mahogany table with sixteen chairs and a glass chandelier hung from a carved plaster ceiling. A cabinet of crystal stood in the corner and a sideboard for platters was against the opposite wall.

She peeked out the door and there was a detached kitchen with a pergola covered with grapevines and a brick walkway. Forethought to keep the kitchen separate as fires were not unheard of.
Exotic flowers made up the garden. Their perfume filled the air. For a moment, Honour thought of her honeymoon in Castara Bay. It brought up all sorts of feelings but she pushed that thought far away.
Jack messed up their relationship. Chasing after a dream and leaving her alone to deal with this.
So it was his fault.
Whatever happened, it was Jack's fault.
Even Cade.
That was Jack's fault too.

"Let's go upstairs to see the rooms. Take your time and enjoy yourself. I shall be in the office on the left looking at the final accounting my overseer left for me."

They mounted the marble staircase and Honour explored the rooms. The master bedroom also had French doors with a balcony that overlooked the ocean. She sat on the four-poster rice bed and bounced on it a bit, her fingers running over the down comforter. An armoire and chest of drawers completed the set along with oil paintings of scenic countryside. She looked into the alcove and there was a small handcarved cradle. Her heart melted a bit at the sight of the nursery.
The rest of the rooms were tastefully appointed with furnishings that bespoke of opulence.

"What do you think of it, Madame?"
"It is beautiful. How much did you say?"
He named his price and Honour replied, "That is quite pricey and a bit more than I was willing to pay."
"You must remember, Madame, that it is over 500 acres."
"I'm prepared to offer you this sum if you reduce it by 15%."
She passed him a paper that she had written an amount.
Mr. Picou mulled it over. "Since you love it and will take care of it....Deal."

The money draft was presented and the new deed was filed.
But not under the name of Honour Wolfe.
It was deeded to R. C. Castlemaine.

Jack would never know that his wife was the legal owner.
The sole legal owner.
Honour was five hundred acres richer.
Jack was 5,000 guilders poorer.
And that was Jack's fault, too.
It was enough to secure her future and her independence.

Never would Rhiannon Conaway Castlemaine be dependent on anyone again.
Especially a man.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

"Conscripted?!" Jack roared at the master of the merchant ship Fidelity.

They were supposed to weigh anchor that day, bound for Barbados, but the captain had been served a decree stating that his ship was no longer a private freighter, but a supply ship in England's Navy. Ships of all types were being pressed into the service of the Commonwealth now that Cromwell had launched his Western Design, meaning that England's tempestuous relationship with Spain had finally escalated into all out war even in the Caribbean. Since the French had nothing but contempt for the Spanish, they were more than happy to host English troops on their soil for a nominal fee. As usual, war was good for business.

"I'm sorry, Mister Wolfe, but I have no say in this," explained the captain. "There's a whole slew of Marines aboard her right now, offloading every last bit of cargo to make room for guns and men. The owners won't be happy, not one bit. But what can I do?"
Jack tried his best to rein in his temper. He knew it wasn't the captain's fault, but he desperately wanted to yell at someone for this incredible inconvenience.
"You have my sympathies, Captain Sumner," Jack said testily. "But you'll excuse me. I have to find someone with a ship that's NOT BLOODY CONSCRIPTED INTO SOME STUPID BLOODY STUPID WAR!! Good day, sir!"

He straightened his hat and stalked to the door of the harbour master's offices, where he was pleasantly surprised to find them still open for business. Two deep calming breaths later, he stepped inside. There were some irate merchants venting their frustrations to an English officer, who offered in return little more than a stony expression as he stared at nothing in particular. Jack bypassed the group and went to the clerk's counter. There was nervous man behind it who was trying desperately to ignore everyone and everything around him. Jack gave him his best cheery smile, and the man seemed to relax a bit.
"Excuse me, but I'd like to speak with the harbour master, please," he said calmly.
The man looked around, and said quietly and quickly, "Ce serait à moi, monsieur. Eh, that is, I am the harbour master."
"Ah, good! I'm in need of a ship bound for Barbados, the sooner the better. Heard of any?"
"Je suis très désolé..." the harbour master began.
"My ship will be making for Barbados," said another man who was signing some documents. He was a grizzled old salt, but clean and well dressed. "We'll not be much for taking cargo, but we can carry a passenger if you stay out of the way. Who wants to know?"
Jack extended his hand. "Jack Wolfe," he said quietly. "And you are?"
"Captain Stephen Mathwig, at your service. Your name has a familiar ring, Mister Wolfe. Have a ship of your own, do you?"
"Me? A ship? No," Jack lied. "If I had a ship, why would I be here begging passage home?"
Mathwig nodded. "Fair point, that. Anyway, if you're in a hurry like it sounds you are, I'm afraid I can't be of much help to you. We just made port today, and won't leave for another four."
"Four days?" Jack said, crestfallen. He looked to the harbour master. "Are there any other ships for Barbados leaving sooner?"
The man nodded no.

"Looks like I'm your best bet, Mister Wolfe," said Mathwig. "Interested?"
"Where shall we discuss terms?" asked Jack.
"Meet me in an hour, just down the street at Le Cheval Rouge. You can't miss it. The sign has a brightly painted--"
"Red horse, yes, I gathered from the name," interrupted Jack.
"Of course," smiled the older captain. "You look like a well travelled man. It shows in the eyes. I'll meet you there, and we'll sort things out to make certain you have a berth on the Homecoming."
"I do have a question, Captain Mathwig."
"And what would that be, Mister Wolfe?"
"Every other English ship larger than a dinghy is getting conscripted into Cromwell's madness. How is it yours isn't among them?"
Captain Mathwig gave a sly smile. "Let's just say my vessel doesn't appear on any merchant's ledgers, Mister Wolfe. I'm sure a man like yourself can appreciate my meaning."
"That I do, Captain. I'll see you in an hour."

Jack tipped his hat  and walked out to the street. At least he had found a fellow pirate for his passage home. Nevertheless, his return was now delayed. His absence would be almost ten days away from Honour instead of the promised four. He hoped she would understand. He pictured her standing on the widow's walk of the manor house on their new plantation, watching every sail that approached from the north and hoping that it was the one carrying her husband home to her.
"This is the one and only time she'll ever feel the need to do that," he vowed. "Never again."

[Welsh Wench]

Leaving the magistrate's office with the new deed, Honour wondered if she were doing the right thing. Jack had been so tender and loving yesterday. And then he casually told her he would be gone and back in four days. No discussion. No...nothing.
He just expected her to make a major purchase.
And why?

'So he would have a place to stow me. A convenient place to put me so he wouldn't have me getting in the way of his fun. Like the necklace. Try to kill me one day and placate me with jewelry so I would forget all about it. Now he wants a place to hang his hat when he's in port.'

She had a feeling that her life was about to change. She had begun to suspect it ever since she came back to Jack from her one-night mistake with Cade.
But did Cade want her for himself? Or was it because she was Jack's wife?
She felt light-headed and sat down. Too many questions, not enough answers...

"Honour?"
Her head jerked up.
"James Blake!"
The privateer grinned at her. "Or should I be formal?"
He swept his tricorn from his head and gave her a deep mock bow. "Why, Mrs. Wolfe! What a pleasure to run into you. May I inquire as to your health? And how fares Mr. Wolfe?"
She grimaced. "Making fun of me are you, James?"
He sat down next to her.
"Not at all, Honour. How are you?"
She shrugged. "I've been better."
"Ah. The life of a pirate's wife not agree with you?"
"It's not that...it's just...James, do you believe in Fate?"
He looked off to the harbour. "I think we all have a destiny we follow. Things happen for a reason, Honour. Why do you ask?"

She looked down and said, "Things have gone terribly wrong. And I wonder if I am being punished for past sins."
"That will need some explaining."
She looked up at him and tears were beginning to form in her eyes. "Something I did once ended up terribly wrong. I am wondering now if I am paying the price. Is it my destiny to have happiness elude me? It's like trying to hold onto water in your hand. You scoop it up only to have it run through your fingers."
He took her hand and said "You are too hard on yourself, Honour. There is no guarantee of happiness in this life. Just...life. We live it the best we can."

She finally got up the nerve. "James...where are you going and when are you leaving?"
"I'm headed for Port Royal and I'm leaving first thing tomorrow. Why?"
Honour became almost desperate in her request. "I need to leave, James. Don't ask me why. Please. Just know that this will save a few lives if I do. I want to book passage with you to Port Royal. I'll give you another name and no one will know it was you who took me out of here."
"Honour, I don't know..."
"PLEASE, James! I'm begging you! I--I have a few chests in storage I need to take. Only a few. If you have a few of your men meet me at St Michael's Number Eleven..if they can meet me this afternoon, I can be ready to leave at dawn. Take me to Port Royal and I'll book passage out of there to somewhere else."
"Honour, I need to know what has happened."
"James, I can't tell you. I can't! The less people know the better. Trust me on this."

Her voice took an almost hysterical edge to it.
"Alright. On two conditions."
She nodded.
"First, Jack Wolfe must never--NEVER!--know I was the one who spirited you out of here. Second---that you tell me the real reason you are leaving. And I want the truth."
"I swear Jack won't know. And I'll tell you the reason as soon as we clear the harbour. I promise."
James nodded solemnly. "I know I have your word. I'll send two men to meet you at that warehouse at four bells."
She couldn't stop the tears from falling as she took his hand. "Thank you, James. Thank you with all my heart."
He sighed."It had better be a good reason, Honour. A damn good reason."
She whispered, "It is. It really is."

[Welsh Wench]

She packed her things quickly and quietly. There was a knock on her door. She heard a voice say, "Honour? It's me...Cade. Honour? Are you in there?"
She held her breath and didn't answer. After a few minutes she heard his footsteps down the hall.
'It's for your own good, Cade. Godspeed.'

Muir sat there watching his mistress empty drawers into a few duffel bags. The necklace Jack bought her was still in the pouch. She held it up to the window and watched the light refract through the diamonds. It was valuable to be sure. She touched it gently and slipped it into her pocket. The last of the drawers was empty. Honour stood up and arched her back. "Packing is hard, Muir."
He ran under the bed and came back out with a shirt of Jack's, laying it at her feet and looking expectantly up at her, his tail wagging. This brought a fresh round of tears.
She hugged Muir and cried. "Oh, Muir! I wish it didn't end this way. But it has to. I can't think of just myself any longer. And we aren't running away...we are running TO something."

She closed the drawer but it caught on something. Something shiny. Reaching in, she pulled out the obstruction. It was the hideous piece of gold that Jack had given her instead of a wedding ring that night they
married. She held it up to the candle and said, 'It really was ugly. I should just pitch it....'
She threw it into her duffel bag and tied the drawstring.
She looked down at her hand and sadly transferred her gold wedding ring with the emeralds from her left hand to her right.
To Muir she said, "I'm doing the right thing, Muir. For all of us. But especially for...."
She didn't finish her thought. It was too new a notion yet.

~~~~

Dawn saw Honour down at the dock. Captain James Blake was directing his crew when he caught sight of her. He took her hands and said, "Walk with me for a minute."
When they were out of earshot of everyone, he said, "I booked your passage under the name of Mary Carter. You can sleep in my cabin. There is room and you will be in comfort there. The crew will think you are my woman and you will be untouchable."
She drew her hood closer to her face. "James, I can't thank you enough."
"Remember our bargain."
"As soon as we clear the harbour."

Within the hour, the wind filled the sails of the Dark Vexation. The sun was beginning to rise as Bridgetown was to their rudder. Blake took her by the hand and said, "Time for our little parlay, Mrs. Wolfe. Follow me to the quarterdeck. We shall have privacy there."

The two of them stood side by side at the gunwale. The silence was palpable. Finally Blake said, "Alright, Honour. Time to fulfill your promise."
She looked over the horizon and began to relate the story she had for James. It was an edited version of what really happened.
"James, it has been a very confusing month for me."
He smiled slightly and said, "Running into you in Castara was startling enough. But to have you presented as Mrs. Jack Wolfe..well, I couldn't quite believe it. Does Jack know about...us?"
She shook her head. "There was no need to tell him. It was before I even met Jack. We were but a moment."
James Blake smiled wistfully. "Two weeks, Honour. A very wonderful two weeks. And a memory I shall always treasure."
"I told you if you are ever in port again..."
"Yes, but I never counted on the infamous Mad Jack Wolfe as being in the picture. Startled the hell out of me."
She nodded. "It startled me, too. There I was laying whiskey down at the Varlet and Vixen and in a few hours I was standing before the magistrate exchanging vows. With practically a total stranger."
"Were you happy, Honour?"
She looked over the horizon and said softly. "For a while, I was happy. Blissfully so. It all started to unravel when we encountered the Mercedes."
James nodded. "I heard all the tavern talk. And then some."
"What did you hear?"
"The usual talk when a ship takes a hit. Who did what and where they went wrong."
James didn't have the heart to tell Honour of the malicious talk about Jack and the unsavory speculation about her and Cade.

James turned to her and turned his face to his.
"Honour, you're peaked and tired. You aren't sick, are you?
She shook her head no. "James? You asked me for the truth on why I am leaving. So I am keeping my end of the bargain. But you can never breathe a word of it to anyone. ANYONE! Promise me first."
James nodded solemnly. "Honour, you can always trust me. I hope you know that."

"I do. James, I am leaving because... because I need to protect myself. And someone else. Jack has such a temper and I don't know if he could ever accept what I am about to tell you."
"You are leaving Jack for Cade?"
Honour looked shocked. James shrugged and said, "Idle tavern talk."
Honour felt sick. She should have known that the loose tongues of the pirates in port would wag.
She continued, "At first I didn't think it to be true. But the signs are all there, James. I'm having a hard time grasping it myself."
"Jack has another woman?"
She shook her head. "No. James, I can scarcely believe this myself. Something wonderful came out of all this chaos. Something very unexpected."
"And that is...?"

She looked up at James Blake, tears in her eyes but they weren't tears of sadness.
A smile trembled on her lips as she said quietly, "I'm going to have a baby."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

From the deck of the aptly named sloop Homecoming, Jack watched the twinkling lights of Bridgetown.  They had arrived too late for the pilot to bring them into port, so the vessel rode quietly at anchor near the harbour's mouth.  To be so tantalizingly close to hearth and home was maddening for him.  Four days had turned to nearly ten, and the only thought on his mind was how sweet it would be to hold Honour in his arms once again.  With the plantation in their name and the Lobo to be auctioned in four days time, Jack Wolfe was finally ready to settle down and make a real home with his wife, and one day soon, their children.  He swore to himself that he would never be away from Honour's side ever again.

The trip to Martinique had gone far better than he'd hoped.  Armand LaFourche's daughter Ceily had practically thrown her insane father's journal at Jack, believing it was the cause of poor Armand's madness.  Now it was his turn to try his hand at decode the mystery of the long dead Ancients and, more importantly, their fabled treasures.  If there was even a shred of truth to the stories, it could mean a delightful little adventure he and Honour could share together.  At the very worst, it would be an interesting intellectual diversion.

Jack had sent two brief letters ashore with the ship's jollyboat, one to Briggs and another to Honour, informing them he would be ashore not long after first light.  Though he was restless with anticipation, he managed to quiet his mind enough to try and sleep.  He had no intention of being exhausted and bedraggled when he was reunited with his bride.  He had come to miss Honour terribly, even more so when he was forced to stay in Martinique a few extra days waiting for passage home.  That was all behind him now.  He drifted off to sleep, content in the knowledge that in a few hours he would be with his beloved Honour, and home.

The harbour pilot came aboard as the sun rose like the Phoenix over the island, and within the hour the Homecoming was nearly into her slip.  Lines were thrown, hauled, and tied off with practised efficiency.  Jack stood at the gunwale, searching the faces gathering there at the dock.  He spied Briggs and waved to his friend.  The quartermaster waved back, but his expression was anything but cheery.  Honour was nowhere to be seen.
Jack was the first one down the gangplank, and he immediately searched out his friend. 
"Josiah!  It's good to see you!  Where the devil is Honour?  Is she ill?"
Briggs set his jaw and sighed.  "I figured from your happy mood ye didn't get the letter I sent.  Damn.  I didn't want ye to find out this way.  Let's walk a bit."

The two men walked along the dock toward the carriage Briggs had hired. 
"What the hell is going on?!  Where is my wife?"  Jack demanded.
Briggs stopped and face him.  "Honour's gone, Jack.  She packed up and cleared out a couple days after you left for Martinique.  I'm so sorry."
Jack felt suddenly sick.  An awful light-headedness swept over him, making his legs feel like rubber.  Briggs reached out and steadied his stricken comrade.  After a minute or so, Jack found his voice again.  His words came slowly and deliberately, as if it took all his strength to form them. 
"Did she... did she leave with Cade?" he asked through clenched teeth.  A terrible dread gripped his soul.  The answer he feared would destroy him.
"Cade?  No, not with him.  Nobody's quite sure who gave her passage, but it weren't Cade Jennings."  Briggs paused for a moment.  "But ye ain't goin' to like the news about him, neither."
Jack looked around and found a short barrel to lean against.  He crossed his arms and looked at the planks of the dock, totally unsure what to think or feel.  She hadn't left with Cade.  That meant the rumours were untrue.  But why did she leave at all? 
"Josiah, you've just told me my wife has left me, God only knows why.  And you tell me there's even more bad news?"
"I'm sorry, Jack, I really am," Briggs said softly.  "Ye know you're the last man I'd ever kick when he's down.  Things went to hell in a right hurry after ye left.  The very next day, Cade bought himself a ship, the Gryphon I think she's called.  He's broke company with ye, Jack.  Left port that day to go rovin' on his own account.  Seems he'd been plannin' it for a while now."

It felt to Jack like he was being hollowed out, one devastating stroke at a time. 
"I knew it would happen one day," he said, his voice barely audible.  "Why didn't he tell me, instead of accepting the run of the Castara operation?  I would have understood!" 
The chill of suspicion crept back in to his heart.  First Cade leaves, then Honour.  Did they plan it that way, to throw Jack off the scent?  Did they think he wouldn't suspect they might be meeting up elsewhere?
"I ain't goin' to pretend I know what goes on in the head of a boy like Cade.  Impulsive to a fault, that one.  Probably why ye took a shine to him.  But I'll wager anything that pup will bite off more than he can chew sooner than not!"
"I want him watched."
"Eh?"
"I want Cade Jennings watched,"  Jack repeated, punctuating each syllable.  His voice was like ice.  "I want to know where he goes, what he does, what his plans are, and especially who he's with at all times.  The same applies to Honour.  If she's in the Caribbean, I want her found.  See that the word gets out."

The single most effective weapon in his arsenal was an extensive information gathering network that stretched to every nook and cranny of the Caribbean.  Everyone knew that Jack Wolfe had eyes and ears everywhere, and they never rested.  Those who betrayed him found out very quickly that there was no place to hide.  He would find them.  And they would pay dearly for their treachery.
"Aye, I'll see to it," said Briggs.  He knew better than to ask questions when his captain's voice went cold.
Jack looked up at him, looking for all the world a beaten man.  "Please tell me that's all the news you have, Josiah."
Briggs shrugged sheepishly.  "Sorry, Jack.  There is one more bit of insult to injury, and it ties right back to that wife of your'n."
"Don't tell me.  She took the cat?"
"I wish to hell she had.  No, a carriage she hired was at one of the storehouses on St. Michael street early the day she went missing."
"Number Eleven."
"Aye," said Briggs.  "All told, between the money for the plantation and the withdrawal she made from the First Bank of Jack Wolfe, ten full chests are missing."

Jack stared blankly out across the waves, as if by some miracle he would catch a final glimpse of Honour. 
"Ten chests..."  he echoed.  Why didn't she take all of them?  One more indecipherable riddle added to the mix.  But the driving force was all too clear to him.  "She used me, Josiah.  This entire time, all she wanted was the money.  How could I have been so blind?"
"She had us all fooled, Jack.  Every last one of us."
"Not everyone," Jack shot back.  "Bonita tried to warn me, but I was too lovestruck to listen."
"With that witch's riddles, how can ye be certain?  No, that Honour is a cagey one.  If that's even her real name.  I guess we'll never know now."
"I don't even know what's real any more, Josiah.  Do you know if she actually bought the plantation, or was that just another of her charades?" asked Jack.
"Beats me.  I trusted her, too, remember."
Jack stood up and straightened his waistcoat.  "We're going to the magistrate's," he said, walking full speed for the carriage.  "I want to know just how much that woman swindled me for."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

The carriage splashed through mud left by a passing morning shower and came to a stop outside the offices of the magistrate.  Jack exited quickly, leaving Briggs to deal with the coachman.  He opened the office door with enough force for it to band sharply against the wall, startling the magistrate's clerk and causing him to drop a stack of papers to the floor.

"Hello there!" the clerk said with annoyance, "You can't come barging in here like that!  Have a bit of civility about you!"
Jack gave a mocking half bow.  "I beg your pardon, but I'm on a matter of some urgency."
"It will wait whilst I collect these papers, if you don't mind," replied the clerk.
Unable to contain his temper any longer, Jack reached for his pistol.   It wasn't there.  He'd left it at the White Hart because he was travelling as a common gentleman.  One more blow to his ego for the day.  He was helpless to intimidate a snotty office clerk.  Finally the man moved the stack of documents to it's new resting place and returned to the counter. 
"May I help you, sir?"
"I need to see all the records of land transactions for the past fortnight," said Jack.
"I'm sorry," the clerk said smugly.  "You'll need a letter of- WAIT!"  Jack grabbed two fistfuls of the man's waistcoat and dragged him halfway over the counter.
"The records.  Now," he growled, and released the clerk, who was suddenly all to happy to comply.  Within moments, Jack was thumbing through the pages of a large ledger.
"What did she say his name was?  Picard, Picou... That's it!  Picou!"  He checked every entry to be certain not to overlook the name if it were there.  Finally, he found it.  The record of sale for a plantation.  The seller, Monsieur Henri Picou.  The buyer...

R. C. Castlemaine.

He stared in disbelief at the page.  She'd lied about the plantation.  She'd lied about everything.  Everything...

He angrily shoved the massive book off the counter and stormed from the office, his face burning with humiliation. Briggs had stayed behind, waiting at the carriage so Jack could conduct his search of the records in private. The look on his friend's face told the quartermaster everything he needed to know.
"The White Hart," he told the driver. "Take your time."

Briggs climbed into the carriage across from his captain. In all the years he'd known Jack, he'd never seen him like this. Lost. Crushed. The wild fire in his eyes all but extinguished. There were no words to cajole or comfort this time. The two men sat in silence as the carriage rolled on.

Jack paused at the door to their... to his room.  The terrible emptiness he felt seemed to grow a thousandfold as his hand touched the door handle.  He knew what he would find, but what the mind understands and the heart feels seldom ever reconcile.  He took a deep breath and turned the handle.

What was once the temporary home of Jack and Honour Wolfe was now a room at an inn, like any other.  Nondescript, void of the feminine presence that had given it warmth.  Empty, save for a single shirt left upon the bed.  He picked it up and held it to his face, thinking back to the many times Honour had worn his shirts instead of her dressing or night gowns so he could catch her subtle scent of jasmine when he wore them next.  All that was gone now.  He  dropped the shirt on the bed and turned to the dresser, expecting to find there a letter explaining why she'd left with no word or warning to anyone.  But there was no letter.  He searched the dresser drawers and the writing desk.  Everything that belonged to her had been removed, even the ugly golden piece he'd given her for their wedding.  No explanation, no clues.  Honour Bright, his wife of nearly one month, the woman he was only now realizing how much he loved, was gone from his life.

Sadly and silently, Jack Wolfe unpacked his sea bag, and began to restore some small semblance of order to his world.

That night, Jack sat alone in his room.  The plate of food and bottle of brandy he'd sent for were still on the dresser, barely touched.  He poured over the journal of Armand LaFourche once again, this time for the distraction its riddles and strange pagan imagery offered more than anything else.  It would take months if not longer to gain a basic grasp of the concepts the madman had tried to communicate in his writings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Candlelight played over the stained and yellowed pages, lending an almost otherworldly quality to the meticulous renderings of bizarre creatures and nightmarish gods.  He took a sip of brandy as he studied a drawing of a chest labelled "The Keeper of Kings," just like LaFourche had spoken of in one of his riddles.  There was no mention of what it might hold, only that it was roughly a yard in length and to unlock it required two keys.  Jack remembered a cryptic partial entry he'd read previously that seemed somehow connected.  He flipped back to near the front of the book.  As he located the passage, he noticed that one of the pages seemed thicker than the others.  Closer examination revealed  that two pages had indeed become stuck together over time.  He set his brandy aside and ever so gently pried the leafs of parchment from one another.  The drawings they had hidden from him left Jack staring in wide-eyed astonishment.

He knew them.

He owned them.

Or, he had until recently.

There before his eyes were exquisitely detailed images of the two keys that would open the Keeper of Kings.  The first was a silver disk, with some sort of grinning face engraved upon it.  Short blunt spikes of varying lengths protruded from the disk's outer edge in all directions.  The second was a disk of gold, with a hideous snarling face and long, slender arms reaching out from its perimeter.

Two critical pieces needed for solving the riddle of the Ancients, and he'd given one of them away to a woman who had vanished as if taken by the wind.

"The Moon and Sun in endless chase," Jack quoted aloud, and sat back in his chair with a self deprecating laugh that soon took on a bitter edge.  "How fittingly ironic, my love.  I don't know where you've gone, Honour Bright, but I will find you, if it takes the rest of my life!"

[Welsh Wench]

Three days later---aboard the Dark Vexation

Honour found it hard to sleep. It wasn't that James Blake's bed was uncomfortable. Her mind wouldn't shut off and drifted back to the last few days.
Under the name of Mary Carter, the crew of the Dark Vexation was under the impression that Honour was his woman.
And under the rules of the unwritten code, she was untouchable. The only protection she wasn't afforded would be during a mutiny.
But Blake's crew thought the world of him so she knew she was safe.
So many things had gone wrong. Honour had never felt so alone.
So vulnerable.
And now she was responsible for another life.
Her unborn baby.

The enormity of everything came crashing down on her.
The familiar sense of panic was rising in her. She buried her face in the pillows, her body wracked with sobs.
"Honour?"
A quiet voice said from the other side of the room.
She lifted her tear-stained face and looked into the deep brown eyes of James Blake.
"Oh, James," she sobbed.
He sat on the edge of the bed and gathered her into his arms.
"Hush, darling. Everything will be alright."
"No, it won't. It never will be, James. I am as good as an unwed mother. I'm having mixed feelings about going home to Wales."
"Do you want me to send you back to Barbados?"
"No, I can't. I have to go home. Megan will take care of me. She always promised she would be there for me."
She gently laid her head against James's chest.
Blake gently stroked her hair and kissed her gently on the top of her head.
"Thank you, James."
"For what?"
"For....everything. I feel guilty taking your bed while you are sleeping on a pallet."
"No problem. I've slept on harder surfaces."
"You can at least share this bed. It's not like we haven't shared a bed before."
"But for different reasons, Honour. As long as you are Jack Wolfe's wife, I won't do anything to intrude on that relationship. The waters are muddied as it is."
She raised her head to him. "It doesn't matter anymore. When I get to Wales I will petition for a divorce on the grounds of abandonment."
"But you left him."
"Immaterial. He ran off to Martinique and left me to buy a plantation on my own. "
"And did you?"
"No," she lied. "It was already sold by the time I got there. I won't get an annulment. I won't have aspersions of bastardy thrust upon this child. I will wait till the child is born and then start the legal process. I am sure I can get a divorce with Jack being in absentia."
"And for that reason, I will not touch you."
"I don't understand."
"As long as you are carrying Jack's child, I won't have any shadow of a doubt that the paternity of the child is questioned."
She felt a catch in her voice.
"I am afraid there may be questions if it ever gets out."
Blake raised her chin to meet his eyes.
"There is more to this than you are telling me."
"Jack listened to rumours when Cade was escorting me around town. My husband was being neglectful to me and Cade offered a shoulder to cry on."
Blake grimaced, "And he offered you more than a shoulder."
"I swear, James, it only happened once. And when it did, I already had a feeling this child was on the way. And there is no doubt in my mind that the baby is Jack's. I began to get queasy on the way back from Castara. And...I had other clues."

Blake laughed softly in the dark. "No need to paint the picture, Honour. I understand."
She ran her finger down his chest and he caught her hand.
"As much as it is tempting, I am afraid I shall have to decline, Honour. And for another reason. Jack Wolfe is my friend. If and when you are free being known as Mrs. Jack Wolfe, we will revisit the situation. But there is one thing you should know."
"What is that?"
His voice took on a faraway tone. "I am not the marrying kind, Honour. All I can offer is the carnal comforts. If there is an implied promise or notion of anything more.....I am sorry. I cannot oblige."
Honour turned away, embarrassed by the rebuff from James.
"I--I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
He turned her face towards his.
"Honour, it's not that I don't find you attractive. Lord knows, I do. I had a hard time getting you out of my mind. Sometimes I wonder...."
"Wonder what, James?"
"How our lives would have changed if you had been back in the tavern that night."
"You said you are not the marrying kind."
"And I am not. But as I told you in Castara, I would have taken you around the world."
Honour gently touched his cheek as she put her arms around his neck.
"Just get me to Wales, James. Right now that is all I ask."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Three days later, in Bridgetown, Barbados

Mimi knocked on the door.
"Yes? What is it?"
"You'd better come downstairs, Madame Renee. We have a bit of a situation."
Renee opened the door.
"Don't tell me the Ferguson twins are back in town."
"No, Ma'am. The situation is in the drawing room. And I think your help is needed."
"Oh, bother. Very well. You sure Enoch can't handle it?"
"No, Ma'am. More of a... well, you'd best come."
Renee hastened downstairs, fastening the belt on her dressing gown.
"Oh, Lord."
Jack looked up at her with bleary, bloodshot eyes.

"She's gone."
"Gone?"
"Disappeared is more like it. Not a trace. Not even a bootlace left."
Renee crossed over to Jack.
"I'll get the brandy. Not that you need any more of it."
"Don't worry, Pip. I brought my own."
Jack held aloft a bottle. A disappointed frown came across his face when he slowly realised it was empty.
"Damn," he sighed. "Bloody awful day."
"Don't you dare throw that bottle, Jack Wolfe!" Renee said sharply.
"Do you talk like this to all your customers?"
"You're not a customer. You're a friend. Now sit your drunk arse down and tell me what happened."
She took the empty bottle from him and replaced it with a glass of brandy.

"I came back from Martinique... was it two days ago? No, three days," he said sadly. "Got the journal from that loony Frenchman, LaFork."
"LaFourche."
"You know him?"
"Oh dear. Just... keep going. You arrived in port here, and?"
"Anyway, I expected to see Honour at the docks. Husband comes home from a voyage, the wife is there to meet him. I mean, that's the way it works, right?"
"Yes, I expect so."
"Well, she wasn't there," said Jack, his voice cracking. "Turns out she wasn't anywhere."
He slugged back the brandy and wiped his eyes.
"There was Briggs. Oh, dutiful, ever faithful Briggs. He gave me the news, that Honour... that she was... Oh God, Renee, she was gone! I even stopped by the registrar's office, to find out if she'd bought that plantation she had her eye on. The one she talked about in Castara. But some bloke's name was on the papers."
"Someone bought it before she could?"
"I expect so. Maybe that was the last straw, I don't know. When I got home..." he laughed bitterly. "Home. Bollocks. Anyway, everything was gone. All her clothes, all her possessions. Everything. Like she'd never been there."
"What about a note? Surely she--"
"NOTHING! I had to find out from Josiah. I knew something was wrong when I stepped off the ship and he was there. He had that look, you know? That... pity look. I hate that look. Oh God, how I hate that look."
Jack produced a shirt and threw it on the floor.
"That. That is all I have to remember her by."
Renee picked up the shirt.
"Your shirt?"
"Smell it."
Renee took a whiff.
"Jasmine."
"And like her, it will be taken by the wind. First ocean breeze and... gone."

Renee sat next to Jack, not knowing what to say.
"You know what the kicker is, Renee? She stole from me."
"Stole? But... what..?"
Jack ran his fingers through his dishevelled hair. "Just... some cash. A lot of it. Kind of rolled me." He laughed derisively. "Rolled. Odd choice of words, isn't it? Maybe that's all we were. A hellluva good roll."
"She stole more than that, Jack"
"What do you mean?"
"She stole your heart."
He shook his head. "You have to have a heart to have it stolen."
"Now don't you go trying to deny that, John Michael Wolfe. This is Pip Woolston you are talking to. Probably the one woman who understands you more than any woman alive. Even more than your dearly disappearing wife."
"What am I going to do, Pip?"
"You will go on. You will get out of bed every morning... breathe in and out all day long. Then, after a while you won't have to remind yourself to get out of bed every morning and breathe. The memory of her will fade. I doubt you will think of this kindly. But think of it as a lesson learned."
"You always did look at the practical side of things."
"Maybe next time you will think with your head and not your heart. Or any other important part of you. You were so eager to bed her that all reason was cast aside and she was shrewd. Oh, so shrewd! Blame it on the whiskey, blame it on the moonlight. But whatever it was, she played her hand and won. And you know what else?"
"No, but I think you're gonna tell me anyway."
"Jack, I'm only saying this because it's true, and I know you won't remember even half of it tomorrow. You never do."
He looked at her and made an honest attempt to focus his eyes. "All right then, what?"

"How can you be so bloody thick when it comes to women and so brilliant with everything else?" she said, the frustration in her voice evident. " You were thick then, and you're thick now. Maddening as hell, it is."
Jack gave her a bleary look. "What are you on about? Thick back when? What about?"
Renee shook her head sadly as she searched his bloodshot eyes. "You really don't know, do you? You never could tell? Not even a little?"
"Tell what?"
"That for all these years, ever since you brought me that first book. And you quizzed me on it after I'd read it, remember? We talked about it for hours that night. You opened my eyes to so very many things. And I suppose that from that night, all this time I've... I've been in---"
Her voice caught and cracked at that moment of confession, and her courage with it. She took her hands in his and tried to put on a genial smile.
"--- in your debt, that's what I've been. And now, you need a friend. Yes, that's just what you need. A good friend. Good old Pip, picking up the pieces like always. I'll start with refilling your brandy."
Renee got up quickly and went to the ornate wooden stand that held the fine spirits. She kept her back to Jack so he couldn't see the tears that would have surely betrayed the feelings she could not bring herself to say aloud.
"You know what, Pip?" he asked.
Hastily she wiped her eyes. "What- what is it, dove?"
"Besides Josiah, you're my very best friend."
She winced. Why did she let herself hope, for even a moment, that he might say those three words? Even with him drunk, it would have been preferable to hear it from his own lips and not in some foolish daydream. She gulped down the brandy and poured more in the glass.

"Hey, that was mine!" he protested.
"So a girl can't drink? I've half a mind to cut you off." Renee downed the glass and gave him a defiant look. It was a rare thing for her to drink hard liquor. But the quicker she could make herself numb, the less her heart would hurt. She wanted to be angry with him. But she simply couldn't bring herself to be.
Jack pouted. "Well, aren't you just the big tease?"
"Big tease, eh?" She poured another half glass and knocked it back. "Get up."
"You throwing me out?"
"Just get up off your arse and on your feet, if you can."
He gave her a confused look, and carefully got to his feet.
Renee walked over to him and held out her hand. "Take it."
"Where are we going?" he said as he took her hand in his.
She led him to the stairs. "I'm putting you to bed."
"I get to sleep it off here?"
"Eventually," she said as ascended the staircase with Jack in tow. 'I may never have your heart, I can sure as hell enjoy your body for a while. Like always,' she said to herself.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Jack made his way down the stairs gingerly. His very heartbeat seemed to pound in his skull, and every footfall added to the drumming. Everything seemed too loud, too bright. It didn't help that his mouth was so dust dry every attempt to swallow was a chore. He could scarcely make out the shape of Monique as she met him coming up the stairs.
"Bonjour!" she said in what ordinarily would have been a cheery sing-song.
But to Jack's ears, it was like nails on a chalkboard. He managed a grunt as he brushed past her.

Finally, he found his way to the kitchen at the back of the house. Sun was streaming in through the windows, and for a moment Jack felt he was staring into a blast furnace.
"Blimey, it lives!" laughed Renee.
Jack made a face in her general direction, as his eyes were still screwed shut against the onslaught of sunlight.
"You're cheery this morning," he croaked.
"It's half past two, dove. Another hour and I would have been up there checking for a pulse."
"I'm alive, barely. Is there anything to drink?"
"The coffee is fresh."
"I meant real drink. I'm not up to facing sobriety just yet."
"Coffee. No backtalk. You had your fill last night at least three times over. Not that it slowed you down any."
"That's me, constitution of an ox."
"More like an overgrown rabbit."
"I thought you were getting me coffee?"
"I'll see if I can find a bucket. Something tells me you're better off soaking that aching head of yours in it rather than drinking it. Just mind where you sit if you're not going to open your eyes."
"Why? Do we have company? Which one of the girls is here?"
"It ain't Monique," said Briggs.

Briggs came in from around the corner.
"Are these the scones ye were talkin; about, Renee?" He held a basket covered with a cloth.
She took them from his hands. "The very ones.Although more suited for breakfast."
She tightened the sash to her dressing gown.
Jack squinted at Briggs.
"Since when did you have a twin, Josiah?"
"What do ye mean?"
"There are two of you."
"Has anyone told ye that you look like hell, Jack?"
"Not yet, but it is early in the day."
Renee poured the coffee and handed Jack a cup. He reached into his pocket to pull out his flask to add a splash of brandy and came up empty.
"Renee, darling, would you be so kind as to...."
"No. You had enough. Time to give the liver a break, Jack."
He ran his fingers through his hair. "Ow. That hurts."
Briggs looked at him with his mother hen look. "I've been looking for ye all night, Jack. Tavern by tavern..."
"Brothel by brothel?"
"Don't be a wise-arse. I was worried."
"What, you are afraid I would go and get myself married again? I assure you, Quartermaster Briggs, that once was enough for me."

Jack eased into a chair at the kitchen table and took a sip of coffee. He grimaced.
"Gah!"
"What's the matter?" asked Renee.
"There's far too much coffee in this coffee."
"Shut up and drinking it, you big baby," she replied as she went back to buttering one of the scones.
Briggs sat down next to Jack, the wooden legs of the chair barking against the floorboards.
"Ssshhh!" said Jack "Sit quietly or not at all."
Briggs sighed. "I figured I'd find ye in this state. And no, I was fairly sure ye learnt your lesson about getting' married."
"Rest assured, that will never happen again. Once was enough."
"The faster ye forget about that woman, the better."
"Oh, no. There will be no forgetting or forgiving where Honour Bright is concerned. Not after stealing from me."
"Don't ye have more money than ye know what to do with as it stands?" asked Briggs.
"I don't give a damn about the money. She took something even more valuable. One of the keys to the chest."
"That gold relic chest? How the devil did she get her paws on that??"
"I... I gave it to her."
"You just gave it to her? Just like that?"
"Well, I didn't exactly know what it was at the time."
"If you gave it to her, she didn't steal it from you," added Renee. "I think you should call it a lesson hard learnt and get on with your life."
"No!" Jack said sharply. "No, I need it. I have to have it, or all the effort I put into finding the chest in the first place is wasted."
"What do ye plan on doin'?" asked Briggs.
"Josiah, if I have to tear the Caribbean apart grain of sand by grain of sand, I'm going to find her."
Jack and Briggs both jumped at the sound of a china plate smashing against the floor.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

"Sorry, that was just stupid of me," apologised Renee as she stooped to pick up the broken plate and ruined scones. "I must have had some butter on my fingers."
Her face burned and she felt tears well up in her eyes. She turned her head so she could wipe them hastily away.
She stood up and faced Jack.
"Just why is it so all -important that you find this key? For God's sake, Jack! Hasn't the woman done enough to you? Have you no pride?"
Jack picked up his cup and hurled it against the wall, shattering it and putting a dent in the plaster.
Both Briggs and Renee jumped.
He said tightly, "Don't underestimate me. I'll burn her to the point she wishes she never had met Jack Wolfe."
With that, he stalked out of the room.

A heavy silence hung in the air. Renee stared at the door Jack had left through. After several long moments, Briggs decided to break that silence.
"Um, Renee," he said clumsily, "I'm sorry for Jack losin' his temper like he did. Ye know how many years he spent lookin' for that infernal chest, then to find he up and gave away one of the keys to it... Ye might say he has a right to feel foolish."
Renee looked at him and shook her head. "Men. You lot just can't see what's in front of you when it's big as day, can you?"
Briggs fidgeted with his cup. "I guess you're gonna have to tell me what I missed."
"It's not about any damned key, Josie. It's about her. Honour."
"I still don't follow."
Renee put the broken shards of plate into the basin and wiped her hands. "The key is just an excuse, dove. That's not why he's so all fired anxious to find her. It's because he still loves her."
Her eyes began to well with tears again as she looked at the doorway.
"A man doesn't get that mad over a lost key, even if it unlocked the Crown Jewels. No, Josie. He's still madly in love with her, and I suspect he always will be."
"I guess I'm missin' one more thing," Briggs said quietly.
"Probably. What is it this time?" she said, self-consciously wiping her eyes.
"That ye wish he'd never met Honour in the first place? 'Cause things might have been different 'tween the two of ye?"
Renee stared at Briggs, then swallowed hard as the tears forced their way back to the surface.
"Just go back to being a stupid man, would you?" she blurted, and hastily left the room.
Briggs looked down at his coffee cup. "Yes, ma'am," he said quietly. "I suppose that's best."

Jack came back in the room.
"Where's Renee?"
"Said she had some mendin' to do."
"Renee doesn't sew."
Briggs just shrugged.
"How long before El Lobo will be ready to sail?"
"The main mast is on order and the sails will be ready in about two weeks. The wood for the hull is bein' steamed and shaped. That's what ye get for havin' that custom-made hull. All in all, I expect three to four weeks and..."
"Not good enough."
"WHAT? Jack, as a shipwright, ye know these things take time and can't be rushed."
"Five days."
"What do ye mean, 'five days?'"
"I want her seaworthy and ready to clear the port in five days."
"Impossible."
"Sweeten the pot then. Give them a bonus.But I want to leave by Friday latest. Before she gets any further away from me."
"Obession isn't healthy, ye know. Just sayin'...."
Jack shot him a look.
"I should say goodbye to Renee."
"I say let her be. You can leave her a note."
He picked up his frock coat and put his hat on.
"I guess so. Let's go down to the docks and put a fire under Samuelson. Like it or not, we will sail by Friday.
Come hell or high water."
Briggs sighed and followed him out.
"Or both."

[Welsh Wench]

Two weeks later--Port Royal

The Dark Vexation pulled into port two weeks later in Port Royal.
"Are you packed yet, Honour?"
"Yes, everything is in those three chests."
"You have enough funds to get to Wales?"
She ignored the one chest that was half full of Jack's guilders buried under her petticoats.
"Yes, I do. You know I am like a cat. I always land on my feet."
James put is arms around her, drawing her close.
"I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too, James."
She laid her head against his chest and absent-mindedly played with the drawstring's lacings.
"I'll always be in your debt."
"I wish circumstances could be different, Honour."
"So do I, James. So do I."
"You will let me know how you are and that the baby is well?"
"I will. I will send word to you through Kate at the Varlet and Vixen."
She hesitated, "If...If things don't go the way they should...I mean, if I should...you know...what I mean is childbirth is natural but so is dying....well, I will make sure Megan writes to you."
James said sternly, "Let's not speak that way. You are young and healthy and before you know it, you will be a mama."
She smiled up at him.
"I can't thank you enough."
"Your passage is arranged on the Bonnie Glenn. Captain Underhill is my friend and he will make sure you arrive safely and are handed over to Megan.
"I'm sorry to be such a bother."
"No bother at all. As I said, maybe when this situation is behind you, we will talk about that trip around the world."
"I would like that."
But both of them knew it was an empty promise.
I'll get some crewmen and have your trunks delivered to the Bonnie Glenn."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Captain Underhill? May I present Mary Carter--my cousin."
Captain Underhill bowed to her.
"A pleasure, ma'am. I have arranged for a cabin next to mine. We will tell the crew that you are my cousin so then you will be protected and no one will think the less of your reputation. Blake? A pleasure as always. Don't worry. She will be in good hands."
"That is why I asked you, Edmund. I am a friend in your debt."
They shook hands.

James turned to Honour.
"Well, this is it, darling. You take care of yourself and let me know when you become a mama."
She nodded. "James, I can't find the words....."
"I know."
Suddenly they were in each other's arms. He held her close and kissed her neck.
"I wish things had been different, Honour. I really do. As I said, I am not the marrying kind. But you came close. Oh, so close!"
She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with tears.
"I love you, James."
"I love you too, Honour."
He broke away from her.
"Mary Carter is now in your care and keeping, Edmund."
Underhill tipped his cap.
James gave her hand a squeeze, then turned to go.
Honour watched him leave, her heart heavy.
"Are you ready, Miss Carter?"
"Yes. Yes, I am."

Wales never seemed so lonely.

[Welsh Wench]

Mid-August--Beaumaris, Wales

Megan anxiously scanned the gangplank of the ship the Bonnie Glenn.
"I don't see her, Daffyd. What if something happened? What if she died at sea? What if..."

Daffyd clutched his wife's hand.
"Stop thinking the worst. There has to be a logical explanation as to why she hasn't left yet and....LOOK!"
Megan's hand flew to her mouth and her eyes filled with tears.
"Thank you, God!"

Rhiannon descended the gangplank on the arm of Captain Edmund Underhill.
Megan and Daffyd rushed to embrace her.
"My God, Rhiannon, I couldn't believe the letter we got that said you were coming home. Cryptic note that it was and now..."
Rhiannon clung to her sister for dear life as she began to cry.
Captain Underhill smiled as he said, "To be sure, I promised Captain Blake I would return her to her family. But as a formality, I must ask your names."
Daffyd shook his hand and said, "I am her brother in law Daffyd Llewellyn. This is my wife and her sister Megan."
To Rhiannon, Captain Underhill said, "You can verify their identities, Miss Carter?"
She nodded.
The captain tipped his hat and said, "That is good enough for me. I'll come around in a few days to call and make sure you are settled in. After all, I promised Captain Blake."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Megan and Rhiannon were seated in the garden at Bancroft Hall. The leaves were starting to turn but the air was warm to the breeze from summer's last gasp.
Megan poured the tea as she asked Rhiannon, "So....I don't know where to begin to ask you anything. Daffyd took the children to the park so we can have some privacy. All they know is that Aunt Rhiannon is here to stay for a while."
"They have grown so much in the two years I have been away, Megan."
"And no more dancing around the subject. Where have you been? My God, we were beside ourselves when we got that note from Father Simon telling us you decided to relocate to Barbados. Daffyd went down to the docks right away and no one would tell us anything. We were frantic! Dilys threatened to tear the dock master's office apart. Gwyneth tried to be the voice of reason and James took over and tried to find out what he could. Still nothing.
Rhiannon, do you have ANY idea what you did to us?"

Rhiannon hung her head and tried not to cry.
"I'm so sorry. Megan, I was so scared. I was afraid Henry would find me and have me tried for Madoc's murder."
She handed her sister a handkerchief. "Even Father's bullying and blustering got him nowhere. It was as if you were taken by the wind. Not a trace. But now you are home!"

Rhiannon found it hard to meet Megan's eyes. But her sister cupped her chin so she had to face her.
"Rhiannon, I think you owe it to me to tell me what you have been up to these past two years."
She nodded.
Softly, Megan said, "There is more to this than homesickness."
Rhiannon said quietly, "Megan...I--I'm going to have a baby."

Megan dropped her hand and put it to her mouth.
"Sweet Mother!"
Hastily, Rhiannon said, "It's not what you think, Megan. I---I'm married."
"Thank God! " she crossed herself. "But where is your husband then? Oh Lord, Rhiannon..I am so sorry!""
Rhiannon looked puzzled at her sister. "You....you think I am a widow?"
Her sister looked bewilderedly at her.
"But....where is he?"
Rhiannon sighed and said, "I guess I should tell you the whole story from the beginning."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"...and then I booked passage back to have the baby here in Wales."
"I must say, Captain Wolfe sounds like a right proper bastard. I am sure we can get the certificate of divorce or annulment here on the grounds of abadonment. Even though technically you abandoned him."

Rhiannon's eyes took on a faraway look.
"He had his heroic, shining moments, Megan. It wasn't....all bad. Just....never mind. I'd like to stay here until the baby is born and then go back to Barbados. I've secured a future for the baby and me. But it won't be for a couple years. Will Daffyd mind?"
"Of course he won't! And the children will be delighted with a little one here."

Honour hugged Megan and felt the tears of gratitude well up in her eyes.
"Megan, I'm so scared."
Megan held her sister close and said softly, "I know you are, sweetheart. But I'm here for you."
The sisters stood there with a bond known only to sisters.
"It's so good to have you home, Rhiannon."
She felt the tears slip down her face."It's so good to be home, Megan.

[Welsh Wench]

September, 1654--Beaumaris, Wales

Honour looked out the window and sighed.
"It looks like the leaves are changing a bit early this year."
Megan looked up from her mending.
"It is the same time as it was last year, sweetheart. You have been away a while."
Honour let the drapes fall back in place.
"Yes, I know. I'll be twenty in April, Megan, and I feel like I have lived five lifetimes."
"Just think of the stories you can tell your children."
"Children. More than one. Megan, this may very well be my one and only child."
"Nonsense. You will get yourself free from that scoundrel. You should pass yourself off as a widow. Having a dissolved marriage--well, that is just unheard of in Beaumaris. Anywhere in the civilized world, as a matter of fact."
Honour sighed. "I suppose so. I feel like I am  living one lie on top of another. If I ever am foolish enough to get married, I want a clean slate between my husband and me. I want financial security. I know what to d do, after being married to Madoc."
"No passion, Rhiannon? it sounds like a very lonely life."
Honour's eyes took on a faraway look as she gazed into the fireplace.
"I had the best," she said softly. "He never failed to make me glow. It wasn't even like that with.....never mind."
"Rhys?"

Rhiannon nodded miserably.
Megan put her mending aside. "You miss him."
"Yes, I do."
"I wish I could say his memory will fade but I am afraid every time you look at your child, you will think of him. Maybe even thank him for the parting 'gift' he left you with."
Well, when he is born, I hope I can think of only the happy times."
" 'He?' "
Honour looked puzzled, "Well, of course! I mean....this is the child of Mad Jack Wolfe. There is no doubt in my mind that this baby is a boy."
Megan laughed. "If you insist. I notice you seem to be wearing your clothes a bit looser."
"Only because they must have shrunk a bit."
Megan shook her head. "No, my precious. Babies take up a bit of room. Stand in profile."

Honour turned to the side. Megan walked around her and nodded,
"Yes, you are getting a bit of a baby bump."
She looked down. "You think so?"
"You were married in June. The baby got his start then. So..."
Megan counted on her fingers. "June...July...August...September...."
She wiggled four fingers. "Four months. That's about right."
Honour looked down. "Do you think I should get a few new dresses?"
"It won't do much good, Rhiannon. A woman who is enceinte will not have any social engagements. I just wore a dressing gown or my chemise alot."

Honour sighed. "I suppose you are right. When you have your little dinner parties, I will stay upstairs. Like the crazy relative you don't bring down for guests. As long as you don't ensconce me in the garret, Megan, I will stay in my room."
Megan gave her a hug.

"I will be glad when this is.....oooh! OH!"
Megan looked up at her, alarmed.
"What is it? A twinge of pain? Oh, please don't say that!"
Honour shook her head. "It's not that...it...it feels weird. Like I swallowed a butterfly or there are some champagne bubbles here."
She rubbed her stomach.
"There it goes again!"

Megan held her at arm's length and grinned.
"That, my darling, is your baby making its presence known!'
"You---you think?"
"The fluttering is the first little kicks the baby is making. "
Honour looked at her sister and felt tears well up in her eyes and a wistful smile on her face.
"I can't believe it! It makes me...." her voice trailed off.
"Makes you what, dear?" Megan said softly.

Honour wiped the tear that trickled down her cheek.
"It makes me almost wish Jack was here to share it. Oh, Megan! What if I made a huge mistake?"
Megan held her close and said, "Rhiannon, this child is a gift Jack Wolfe gave you. Hold on to that thought and it will get you through this."
"I will. I'll cherish this baby and be grateful that for a little while I knew contentment and love."

Megan blew her nose on her handkerchief.
"Megan, you are so found out!"
She laughed through her tears.
"Alright, so I am a fool for a silver lining in a thundercloud. Now let's go upstairs and get the Conaway cradle out of the attic!"

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Late September, 1654 -- Castara Bay

Jack looked back at El Lobo del Mar.
"She's anchored safe and sound, Jack. Don't worry."
He sighed. "I know. Funny when things go wrong, you just expect the worst."
"Well, she's goin' nowhere. What has you so jumpy and nervous anyhow?"
"The unknown. The last time I was in Castara...."
Josiah nodded. "Pleasant memories turnin' unpleasant?"
Jack shrugged. "Something like that. I hate the thoughts of facing you-know-who."
"Everyone hates the thoughts of facing you-know-who."

Jack chuckled ruefully and then looked over the horizon.
"I want to thank you, Josiah."
"For what?"
"For helping me through this time. And for kicking me in the arse out of my self-pity."
"Wasn't me what did that. It was Renee. I was just along for the ride. She gave you a month to indulge and then told ye enough is enough."
"I can't deny it still hurts like hell, Josiah."
"I know."
"It wasn't all bad, you know...the memories. There for a brief, shining moment I knew..." he sighed.
Josiah nodded. "Don't forget that I loved and lost too, Jack. And lost a son in the process."
"I know. Listen to us. Pontificating on love won and lost. Not what is expected out of pirates, is it?"
"We do have our moments. But your secret be safe with me."
"The hard part of mine is wondering if it was all an act, Josiah. Did she love me? Or was it all an act to get what she could out of me? Is she out there laughing at my expense?"
Josiah shook his head. "I saw how frantic she was when she thought ye were dyin' from the sniper. That's the puzzlin' part. Why she ran off with the chests."
"And why only a portion? I guess the only way I will get answers is to find her."
"Don't make it your life's ambition, Jack. If we come across her, we'll find out. But don't make it the uppermost thing on your mind."
Jack sighed as he put the key into the warehouse.
"I know. Shall we see what is left of the swag?"
The heavy lock clacked open. Jack lifted it from the iron hasp and let it fall to the ground. He took a breath and swung the large doors open. They groaned on their hinges. As the men's eyes adjusted to the darkness, Josiah let out a low whistle that fairly echoed in the space. Jack's shoulders fell.

It was empty. Completely empty. Every last silver cup, every last stick of mahogany furniture had been removed. All that was left were the cobwebs in the rafters above and the sandy floor below.

And a note. Tacked to the first support was a piece of paper folded double, with the word "Thanks" scrawled on the outside. Jack pulled the paper free and began to read it aloud.
"'To Who It May Concern...' That would be me, I'm guessing," he said with a rueful laugh. "'Being as there is no one about to lead the smuggling operation as created by one Capt. J. Wolfe, we, the ship masters who signed on to said Company, hereby claim the contents of this warehouse as compensation for our loyalty and efforts. Loyalty that was not shown in return. We remain your faithful servants...' Oh, look at that, Josiah. They even signed their names. How bloody thoughtful!"
Jack wadded up the paper and hurled it at the back of the warehouse.
"That.... dog. That worthless mongrel I took and raised as my own flesh. Not only does he try and steal my wife, he stabs me in the back by abandoning the work I trusted him with!"

"Jack, ye knew walkin' into this Cade weren't worth trustin' nor expectin' much of. Don't go getting' all worked up over that pup."
Jack exhaled loudly and looked up at the roof of the warehouse. "You know, Josiah, you have a maddening way of ruining a good rant."
"Duckie told me to keep an eye one ye, so ye don't get your blood up too much. Ye spent over a month on one hell of a bender, and that ain't good for anyone, no matter how stout."
"I'll be sure to tell the good physician you made an excellent nurse." Jack kicked at the sand. "Well, I guess it's time to move on to the fun part of this journey. Talking to Bonita."
"I still don't know what ye expect that witch woman to tell ye," said Briggs. "Exceptin' that 'she told ye so' and what not."
"Oh, I fully expect her to throw recriminations at me, hot and heavy. But you know what you can get when you get a woman really, really angry?"
"Missin' teeth?"
Jack chuckled and shook his head. "No, my friend. You can get the truth."

The men trudged up the winding lane that ran parallel to the ocean, leading to the tavern only a few blocks from the harbour.
The tavern sign Le Loup swung in the breeze.
"At least it is still hanging," Jack noticed.
Josiah looked up.
"Yeah, remarkable for what it's been through." He pointed up and it was then that Jack noticed it was riddled with bullet holes.
"Looks like someone took their frustration out on it. Hope it wasn't an effigy for me."
"Maybe it was Bonita."
"No, she has more...unusual ways of revenge. And the time I spent with that little Spanish senorita proved that Bonita hadn't cut any vital organs off her poppet. Renee had no cause for complaints, either."
Josiah put his hand on the door latch.
"Are ye ready to go in and face whatever is waitin' on the other side of the door?"
"As ready as I ever will be."
"Then after you, Jack."
"Chicken."
"I'm glad you're with me, Josiah, so I don't have to face that woman alone."
"Oi! Did ye hear that?"
"Hear what? The angels in the firmament, perhaps?"
"The ship's bell! Must be somethin' urgent. I'll take care of it whilst ye talk with Bonita."
"You bloody coward!" laughed Jack as Briggs scurried down the path. "Fine! Run off then. I'll deal with her myself."

The door swung open, and Jack stepped out of the bright island sunlight into the dim confines of tavern. A few rays of light shone through the windows, illuminating the dust that hung in the air. No one was visible inside. He closed the door and walked toward the bar, pausing to drag a finger along one of the table tops. He looked disapprovingly at the layer of dust on his finger. While everything appeared to be in its place, it was obvious no one had been using the tavern, much less keeping it tidy.

"Bonita!" he called out loudly. "It's me, Jack."
He paused before calling again.
"Bonita! Where the hell are you? You'd better not have abandoned this island, too!" he yelled impatiently.

Just then, a woman came bustling out of the back room with a handful of rags. She wore a dress similar to the style Bonita wore, but in bright, mismatched colours. Her hair was haphazardly piled up on her hair, tied in place with a battered red ribbon that really should have been in with the rags.
"Who be yellin' dey head off? Can't him see Drusilla is busy?" she answered.
"Jack Wolfe, owner of this place. And just who are you?"
"Drusilla. Didn't him hear me say dat just a second ago?"
Jack sighed. What was already a bad day was taking an annoying turn. "Yes, I heard you. But that doesn't tell me who you are or why you're here. And where is Bonita?"
"Ooh, him got lots of questions! Bonita left de island weeks ago. She leave Drusilla in charge of everyt'ing. She trust Drusilla 'cause we be cousins. We like dis, all our lives." She held up her hand and crossed her fingers.
"All right, then," said Jack as he walked to the bar. He took one of Drusilla's rags and wiped the counter before leaning on it. "When is she due back? I have questions for her."
"Oh, Bonita not comin' back. Not never. Bonita made Drusilla de boss of dis whole island."
"Did she now? Funny, it's not her island to give away."
"Well, listen to him, actin' like him own de place!"
"That's because I do, dear."
Drusilla's eyes went wide. "Oh. Him dat Jack Wolfe."
"Yes, I'm that Jack Wolfe. And you'll forgive me if I don't believe you."
"Drusilla don't tell no lies!"
"But she does tell lies. Big ones." He pointed to a reddish satin bag that sat atop a low box that was pushed up against the wall behind the bar. Embroidered on it was a large cursive letter B.

"That," he continued, "is Bonita's. And I know what's in there. Something she would never, ever leave behind. Not even for a day."
"Whatever him t'ink it is, him wrong," Drusilla said uneasily.
"No, I'm not wrong. That's Bonita's most cherished possession. Her bones. The ones her tia gave her. The ones she uses to see with."
"Bonita gave dem to Drusilla. Bonita not de only one with de Sight!"
Jack waved his hand dismissively. "Now what I want to know is, why is Bonita hiding from me?"