James and Richelle: Before the Hurricane

James gulped some of the wine down and poured another cup as he listened to the lass. It seemed that she was an unwilling participant aboard this ship as much as he was, since it didn't sound as if she was eager to be going to live with her uncle.

"And what of ye, sah? Wot caused ye ta deign an' join us fools within this fine vessel, eh?"

Stopping in mid gulp the green-eyed pirate peered over the lifted cup and stared at the slip of a girl, his eyes shone brightly. Lowering his cup slowly he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, "How it be lass ye dunnae know of Lucky James MacLeod, the pirate according to the crown, that be listed in the service of the devil. The pirate called a curse upon all nations, and a member of the coast brethren?" James paused for dramatic effect and leered at the girl a moment before he started laughing.

"Aye lass I be labeled of all of that and far worse, but I be a misunderstood and falsely accused man. For ye see I am but a humble sailor, a man of the sea and a fair merchant is all." James resumed his drinking, as he did so he sniffed the air, the smell of the potatoes roasting and the quail popping and frying filled room with a heavenly aroma.

With a cock-sure grin James leaned in close to the bonny lass, she had a spark that made him comfortable with her, "So I am headed back to Royale to be tried and hung by the Gov'nor as a scallywag and a sign to others of my ilk to be wary." Easing back and stretching his legs, James placed the cup on the deck and said. "However I'd wager the Gov'nor really wants me to dance the jig because his daughter takes a fancy to this humble merchant."

The cook cleared his throat and said, "Pardon mi'lady and mi'lord, I've yer meals if it be pleasin' ye both I'd be beggin' yer leave to attend me various duties." With a nod from James, the cook placed tin plates full of potatoes a squab and a hunk of bread and butter before them.

Looking at Richelle, James smiled, "Shall we mi'lady?"

Richelle was as puzzled as she was intrigued by the chipper pirate. Or was he even that..? Even in sailing towards his assured death, the man blithely maintained some degree of innocence. Or perhaps he was proclaiming himself to be innocent in the same way that she was Lady Carmella du Havoc...At any rate, she felt a smile tugging at her lips, as she executed a shallow bow with her upper body, pressing one hand dutifully to her chest.

"Forgive me for me lack of eddication, sah!" She spoke imploringly, "Fer nae recognizing such a' infamous seadog such as yeself! I be greatly remissed."

Then the cook came forward with the remarkable meal, hardly the sort of tosh that Richelle had even dreamed of eating while stowed away in the cramped little closet of a room she'd been given on the ship. When the man presented the meal, Richelle straightened her spine and, very briefly, abandoned her Cockney accent and lowered her lashes demurely. "Thank you, kind sir, for this divine repast. Your kindness is greatly appreciated."

When the man left, Richelle picked up a fork and took an appreciative bite of the spiced potatoes. Her eyes lit up and she sighed at the cacophony of flavors. "Blimey, but yon cookie knows 'is way around the skillet, don't he?"

But then she fixed her attention on the pirate again, her curiosity stirring up even as she chewed the quality grub. She glanced down briefly at her plate, then back up at him. "So...'tis James, then? Well, Master James, 'tis me pleasure ta make your acquaintance, as 'twere. But...I cannae help but wonder, fine laddie me buck. If 'twere me off ta the gallows for catchin' the eye of some high-societied bit of fluff, an' I were no longer pressed upon with a particular pair of iron bracelets...I'd be off an' away for bonnier waters! There be a fair few spare lifeboats, mayhaps if I were of a piratical nature, I'd borrow one an' make me escape."

James ate heartily as he listened to the slip of a girl talk abut escape. Lifting his tin cup he slurped some of the red wine and flashed a dazzling smile at Richelle, "Well 'tis a wonderful idea lass, however I'd wager an 'orrible death of thrist before I be found by another ship or perhaps an isle ta be callin me home."

Taking another sip James stiffened as he heard muffled shouts and heavy boots outside, his eyes grew wide then narrowed a bit, "Lass we've the King's own as company shor…" Before he could finish the galley door burst open, a marine entered, the long barrel of his rifle pointing at James, the pale light caught the wicked bayonet as it moved in an alarmingly fast manner towards James' chest.

The diminutive officer stepped inside and the forms of at least two other marines are lurking in the hallway. With a high nasal pitch of a voice the left-tenant snarled at James, "Well Mr. MacLeod, I see managed to get the shackles off yer wrists." Casting his beady eyes towards the woman the officer offered a stilted bow and growled, "I am afraid you are in the company of a pirate, I hope he hasn't ravished you or befouled you in any manner."

Casting those eyes at the much taller pirate, he spat in anger, "You shall be confined to your quarter the rest of this voyage, sah!"

James' lip curled in a odd little grin, his eyes flared with a mischievous light, "Well now Left-tenant I suppose I will have to suffer such a fate. However, my cabin now belongs to this lady whom I have kidnapped and held against her will. I am sure if you speak to the captain he will agree with me about the change in accommodations."

The Left-tenant's eyes bugged out and his face became florid, "WHAT? You dare make demands!" James held up a hand as he swatted away the bayonet and finished his wine, "I can and I do make this demand. I am sure the captain will allow this lady to have a private room."

Standing up, James pulled his coat about his lean waist and tipped his hat slightly at Richelle, "I am sure mi'lady you shall have a more pleasant journey than what you had envisioned." Flashing her a smile James said softly, "Perhaps I will take up yer idea, perhaps indeed…"

The sounds of heavy manacles chinked as they are placed around James' hands and feet, with a shove he is escorted away towards the deck where he would spend the rest of the night chained to the main mast.

The Left-tenant looked at Richelle with distaste, "Come then, I will take you to his room, it shall be yours the rest of the voyage. Count yourself lucky."

Richelle could do little more than watch as the pirate...James...was led away, manacled once more. It struck her at the injustice of it all...never mind what Lucky Jimmy had done to be arrested, if he had done anything at all. But to see such a bright, enthusiastic, humorous spirit stifled by chains...it caused a stirring in her chest that made the officers around her seem every bit more clumsy and oafish. Her jaw tightened, and she could only manage a terse smile in return to the pirate James' parting words.

But his instructions to the short, infuriated officer as he left brought up an intrigued spark in the lass' mind. His quarters..? A private room? Precisely who was this James MacLeod, that he merited such treatment? Even the indignantly trembling boy with the bayonet didn't seem to see fit to argue the point.

Richelle quickly rose to her feet to watch James' strapping back disappear from sight. Her brow knit in confusion. Perhaps he would try to escape...for longer than was needed for a decent meal with a street thief. She doubted, when she allowed herself to ponder it, that there were any ropes, chains or locks that could truly keep James MacLeod's spirit dampened.

The lass was snapped out of her reverie by the sneering voice of the Left-tenant, however. She felt her lips curling in on themselves the way they did when she was miffed and preparing for a squabble. The way they had when she'd bickered with the lovely ladies on the deck, just before she'd been invited for supper with the captain. What right did this sniveling pup have to look down at her as though she were refuse on the toe of his boot, after all?

But before she could snap something smart in reply to his tone, an image of the pirate...James...floated before her mind's eye; cheerful, swaggering, smooth. He replied to insults and snobbery with a healthy dose of humor. Perhaps she should give that a try.

Count yourself lucky. Lucky indeed!

"Why, thankee, sah!" Richelle replied at length, bending into a sweeping curtsy. "So kindly of ye ta be escorting a waywardly bloomin' flower such as meself ta such honorable cabinry! Why, surely a delicate blossom like me own fragile self be in the best of hands against all manner of rogues an' blaggards an' rapscallions, when placed carefully in yer own-" Richelle took a moment to stare at the Left-tenant's hands, dramatically looking down at her own as if comparing the sizes and doing her best to look disappointed, "-masculine mitts. Mayhaps it be best that we be treading along these fair decks tagether after all, sah...we delicate flowers must stick together, eh?"