Kindred Spirits

Chapter 13

How To Seduce A Lobster – Lesson One

Devon was very grateful for Elisabeth’s directions when she was able to easily find her way to the house that she would’ve spent hours trying to find by herself. She adjusted her clothes so that she would appear more ‘presentable’ and ran a hand through her hair to calm the unruly curls before knocking on the heavy door.

There was no answer.

That’s strange ... Devon thought. She scanned her surroundings, but there was not a soul was in sight. Although she was baffled at the turn of events she knocked again, but this time harder and more persistent.

Still no answer.

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. What the hell...? She glanced over her shoulder a second time, if for nothing else then only to remind herself that there was no one around and that these traitorous hairs on the back of her neck standing up were just due to the fact that she was cold. After she made perfectly sure no one was there, she shrugged it off and then skilfully picked the lock on the door and crept inside.

Once in the door, she carefully studied her surroundings. There was no sound to be heard throughout the house other than that of her own breath and the little snorting sounds her dog made. She made her way down the hall leading off the foyer, where she came upon the first of the rooms in the house. Devon carefully pushed the door closest to her on the right open. It appeared to be some sort of overly decorated tearoom or something. Like that’ll help... Next!

She opened another door only to find a huge library. Her curiousity got the best of her, and she walked in to see if there were any maps strewn about. No maps, but the man that lived here had quite an impressive selection of literature. She chuckled and shook her head at the thought of a lobster being well-read and then proceeded to the next room before she could dwell on it too much.

She continued down the hallway, and after she opened a few more doors, she came upon a locked door. Now I wonder what could be in here... Devon grinned and carefully picked the lock, just as she did to the front door, and in a matter of moments it was open. Always stick with the things ye do well Dee... She smirked as she opened the door cautiously. The contents of the room made it look like a study, given the presence of the globe and papers on the desktop, and the small bookshelf that housed models and maps. Perfect...

This room was the one she had been searching for.

She went inside and searched a few of the desk drawers, opened a few cabinets and rummaged through the massive piles of papers looking for Drake’s map. Success! She found a few maps hidden underneath the piles of papers. After extricating the maps from their paper prison, she picked her first victim. She pulled the ribbons off and rolled the map open, so it was spread out on the desk. But the mark was not there. She didn’t even bother to roll it up again before she tossed it aside and grabbed another map. After she opened a few more of the maps, she spied an older looking map with blackened edges and only a simple ribbon which held it closed. Bingo! She spied the emblem immediately and grinned at her luck, she hadn’t been here more than ten minutes and already found what she came for. Quickly she scanned the map for the dual charts Drake mentioned, just to make sure she wasn’t going to take back the wrong map to her Capt’n. Her work being done, she rolled the map up and tucked it underneath her blouse and into her belt. She swiftly put the rest of the maps back in their respective places and went to make her exit. That was easy. Almost too easy, come ta think of it... It’s a pity I didn’t get to meet the wigged one. Ah well, probably would’ve been lousy entertainment anyway... That and there’s always next time.

Devon headed back in the direction of the smithy when she heard several heavy footsteps behind her. She increased speed a little, as did the footsteps only seconds later. Damn, I’m being followed. I just knew this was too bloody easy.

‘Halt!’ a harsh voice shouted from behind her.

Devon took off running, no longer worried about getting back to the Turner’s, but more focused on not getting caught by those bleedin’ lobsters! She reached for her pistol and unlocked the safety. As she streaked down the empty alley, she tried to concentrate on the footsteps that followed her. Two men... no more... there were three. Only three? I can take three men... after all I am Devon Duvil–

At that moment two other men had appeared from around the corner in front of her, which conveniently blocked her escape route, and had their rifles aimed at her. Damn! This is just peachy! Keeps gettin’ better by the bleedin’ minute...

She took her pistol in her left hand while she unsheathed her cutlass with her right. Two of her favourite weapons that she could wield with pinpoint accuracy. She was more then ready...

‘Drop it!’

‘Drop what?’ Devon asked innocently looking at her blade and barker.

‘Drop your weapons! Drop them this instant!’

‘Well aren’t ye quite the gentleman? And why on earth would I want to be doing that?’

‘If you are wise, missy, you’ll do as you’re told,’ he snarled.

‘Ye see? That be a problem... I get mighty pissed when anyone has the gall to call me “missy,” let alone a lobster like ye. And another thing is that I sure as Hell never do as I’m told because I do what I want. So I think that the wisest thing for ye ta do, gents, is let me continue my way.’

No sooner had Devon ended her little speech when she felt a pointed object pushing into her back, quite likely the bayonet of a rifle. Inwardly she was laughing at their audacity. Like one bayonet in me back will really stop me from doing this... She stepped forward calmly and raised her gun and cutlass, effectively holding one of the redcoats at gunpoint, while her blade was aimed at another redcoat’s heart. ‘Now, I think it'd be in yer best interest to stop poking me with that, son. Ye might have outnumbered me, but ye can’t outsmart or outfight me.’ she snapped over her shoulder.

Given the continued presence of the bayonet in her back, she assumed that the man was being stubborn and was not planning on giving in to her threats anytime soon. Why must they force me to be violent to get me point across? She simply sighed then pulled the trigger, sending the man in front of her to the ground. The bullet left a round and bleeding wound right between his eyes, and all the redcoats looked down to see the crimson liquid pooling out on the cobblestones underneath his head. While they watched their fallen companion, she used the distraction to her advantage and kicked her leg back as forcefully as she could. Afterwards the pressure from the rifle mysteriously vanished.

Once the threat of the bayonet was removed, she countered forward and drove her sword into the chest of the other redcoat, and then she proceeded to turn her blade, its movement in his chest producing a sickening gulping sound. After disposing of two of her attackers swiftly and efficiently, she removed her blade from its human sheath and turned around to face the remaining redcoats that stood behind her. She tucked the smoking pistol into her belt and extracted a fresh one, deftly unlocking the safety. ‘Who wants to be next? I must say I’m on a roll here!’ her eyes gleamed as she studied the wigged ones that stood in front of her. She watched as they eyed her, the hatred and disbelief clearly showing in their eyes. Without another moment of hesitation she fled from the scene, ducking from several bullets that missed her by only millimetres.

Devon had never run that fast in her entire life. In fact she still held both her cutlass and her pistol in her hands, since there was no time to put them away. Curse these men for always forcing her into the most gruesome way to end an argument!

In her rush to get as far away as possible, she heard the alarm bell sound from the fort. Damn those bloody wigs!

She continued running, just trying to reach the Turner’s Smithy again, figuring she could hide there. But somehow, she had made a wrong turn along the way and consequently ended up in the wrong alley, which just so happened to be a dead end. And to think I was having good luck with things today – that is, until now.

It was at that particular moment that a strange feeling swept over her, an odd sense of loss. She had lost something... or rather... someone. ‘Bullet?! Bullet where are ye luv? This is SO not the time ta play hide ‘n go seek!’ But Bullet didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight. She forgot all about the redcoats that were tailing her now that all of her thoughts were bent upon her dog. She kept scanning the unfamiliar territory in order to retrieve her precious Bulldog, but Bullet was still nowhere to be found. She called him again, not bothering to keep her voice down, ‘Bullet! Where the hell are ye pup?'

‘Now there’s a real nutcase,’ a male voice said. ‘She’s calling for her ammunition!’ The sound of laughter rang through the alley.

‘What did you think, lass,’ his voice now addressing Devon, speaking in a very baiting tone, ‘That if you kept pleading and calling for them, that your bullets would just appear out of the blue?’ Again, the harsh laughter echoed around her.

Devon found herself cornered by eight redcoats, all aiming their rifles at her, the shimmering bayonets pointed in her direction.

She looked up towards her attackers, eager to make a clean getaway. Unfortunately she had run out of luck by this point, and it seemed that the only way out of this predicament would be to climb through the open window she saw above her. The problem with that idea being that the window was too high for her to reach, and before she could even start the climb to get there, they would have killed her on the spot.

Seeing that there was no way out, she had to do some quick thinking. Either she could attempt to bullshit her way out, or would be forced to take the more gruesome option and slaughter them all. Not one to opt for cruelty without reason, she decided to at least try to the bullshit method first. It’s worked before...

‘Gentlemen, if I can be honest here, I fail to see the problem you obviously have with my person. Would someone please be so kind as to inform me, so I can continue the search for my dog?’

Devon’s eyes glanced around her every so often, desperately trying to find the dog she cared about so much. She cared too much for that damned dog – and look where it got her! Even now, her thinking about Bullet had given the redcoats the opportunity to kick her pistol right out of her hand as another one quickly disarmed her. She had been caught off guard... and that was something that did not happen to her very often, if ever. Curse that mutt! Curse that mangy, scurvy hairball to make me care this much... Now she had nothing. Nothing except her throwing stars, but by getting them out of her vest to defend herself, she would potentially reveal the map she had stolen.

Devon tried to reach for the small dagger that was hidden in her boot, but one of the men grabbed hold of her arm before she had barely bent over to reach for the handle. ‘I had an itch, fer crying out loud! Can’t a woman scratch herself without ye getting yer knickers in a twist?’ He man that held her arm wrinkled his nose in disgust, looking with his big eyes to his hand that was currently grasping hers. Probably thought he would get infected by some ‘improper disease’... But even through this the man's grip on her arm never wavered.

Another man stepped forward, and took her chin in hand, as if to inspect her face. Devon spat at him and kicked him hard with her sea boots, struggling to get out of the iron grip which both men had on her.

He winced for a split second, but regained pristine posture and scathing look quickly. He took her wrist, and none-to-gently shoved the sleeve of her blouse up and her gloves down. ‘Just as I suspected, the Dragon Lady...’ Damn it all to bloody hell! ‘Miss Duville did you honestly think no one would notice the pirate brand on yer arm, or that tattooing a dragon over it would take away suspicion?’ he snickered. ‘If nothing else the Dragon on your forearm only makes you even more recognizable. I am appalled that you even need an explanation, or does your memory fail on you?’ he smirked smugly to himself as he wiped her saliva off his face.

‘Maybe it did, handsome. All it takes is one look from you and a girl’s knees grow weak,’ she answered sarcastically while cringing inside. The things I reduce myself to... ‘What be your name, sweetie? As you made it quite clear that you know mine, it seems only fair you tell me yours. Of course I’ll need it so that I can moan it when I dream of you,’ Devon had to repress a shudder. This man was NOT even the slightest bit attractive to her, just a hoity-toity, stuck-up wig.

He took a step back with reddened cheeks, ‘Clap her in irons,’ he said

with an unsteady voice. She saw his eyebrows wiggle and his fingers

tremble, so she decided to make this even more fun and gave him a wink as she licked her lips. He swallowed hard, desperately avoiding her eyes. ‘Never did tell me the name, luv,’ she said softly.

‘It’s Lieutenant Gillette, pirate,’ he growled back.

‘And I can be yer dreams come true if you wish, mon amour.’

‘I know yer routine, Duville. I've heard the stories,’ he said, now regaining some of his composure.

‘Ah, and since ye've heard of me, ye can tell I wasn't lying...’ she casually ran her hands over her vest seductively to make the redcoat even more uncomfortable as she assured herself that the map was still in its hiding place. Comforted by the fact that it was still with her coupled with the fact that those bleedin' Lobsters had no clue about it, she looked boldly in Gillette’s eyes again.

He shook his head at the woman. ‘How is it that a woman would engage in piracy? It's bad when men do it, but even worse for a woman.’

She smiled at this chauvinistic comment, ‘How's that luv? Cause the women become legends and make the men stand in their shadows?’ ‘No, it’s worse for a woman because they should stay home and raise children, not go off seeking treasure causing amok and bloodshed in the process.’

‘What can I say? I’m just not the embroidery, needlework, homebound kind of girl, Gillette,’ she replied sincerely as she shrugged her shoulders.

‘You’ll pay for your crimes, Duville. Then you’ll be sorry. Commodore Norrington himself will see to that. He's wanted your neck for a long time, ever since you killed Francis Steward. And since your list of misdemeanors only got longer ever since you turned pirate, so there’s all the more reason to hang you. Why just today you’ve added robbery and a second count of manslaughter. I’ve been looking forward to this moment for a long time as well Duville,’ he said while another man clapped the iron cuffs around her wrists. ‘This could possibly mean my promotion...’ he added rubbing his hands together.

‘Commodore... Norrington...?’ Devon’s eyes widened in shock her mind registered this statement. She was rendered speechless for a moment, and her eyes grew so wide that her pupils had almost completely disappeared in the blue colour of her irises. ‘Am I in the wrong port? Didn’t he used to be a Lieutenant in Nassau?’

‘Not anymore Duville. And ever since you escaped him there, I am willing to bet that he will see to it that you get special treatment this time.’

Damn to the blazes, she hated that man. And now not only was he a Commodore, but was after her head as well. Oh this was just peachy. She could still hear that darling monotone voice of his whispering threats into her ear. It was only by seducing him during their last encounter that she had ever managed to escape. She didn’t even want to think of the odds of that particular method working against him again. Men with bruised egos were never ones that could let go of the past easily... And it certainly did not help that ego of his now that he’s a Commodore... Oh she could tell already that this meeting was not going to be pretty.

‘Somebody’s been doing their homework! Such a good boy! Yer mommy must be ever so proud of you. I bet yer one of those little boys that get milk and cookies when ye go home, eh? Meself, I am personally looking forward to the day I get to repay my undying gratitude to you, Wiggy,’ she retorted as she struggled desperately to get out of the grip from the men that restrained her.

There was no way she could escape... and now they had placed shackles on her that were clasped around her ankles. ‘Why the shackles? Ye afraid I’ll run away? I can reassure you boy, Devon Duville never runs while in entertaining company. And while we’re being honest with each other, might I point out that I happen to find handcuffs very arousing?’ she said licking her lips.

‘Gag her!’ Gillette commanded one of the men, ‘I can’t stand hearing one more of those filthy comments leave her mouth!’ Devon leaned forward, lowering her head, and when the man who was supposed to gag her hovered above her she swiftly brought her head up to connect with his, using as much strength she could muster and knocked him out. Even though her head now felt as if it she had taken a blow to the head from a huge sledge hammer, she was not going down without a fight.

This is all rather pointless and ye know it, Dee. Ye should’ve killed them when you had the chance, and now there’s no way in hell to get out of this. Now see what that bleedin’ mutt has gotten you into now?

She proceeded to curse herself for getting caught, curse Bullet for vanishing into thin air, and curse the entire damned town of Port Royal. She hadn’t even realized that her attention had strayed from her beloved redcoats until she felt something hard hit the back of her head just before everything went black.

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Jack had docked his beloved Pearl on the other side of the ridge just outside the harbor of Port Royal, so that she would be out of sight of the preying eyes of the Royal Navy. He hated going to Port Royal, mainly because it took so much difficulty and caution just to pay his good friends a visit. But he couldn’t very well leave his past behind and never check up on good friends. He decided to go ashore by himself, not wanting to endanger any of his crew simply because he wanted to visit with Will and Elisabeth. AnaMaria wanted to come along, since she would’ve loved to be able to catch up with Liz, but Jack had told her that he had to make sure it was safe before he allowed any of the crew to go ashore as well.

As he neared the harbour, he could smell the fancy perfumes and colognes the wealthy women wore. Port Royal smelled almost serene. So much different then the aroma Tortuga had. Tortuga was an interesting combination of rum, horniness, blood and gunpowder. He had decided a long, long time ago that he liked the aroma of the latter best.

As he reached the docks, he rowed the ship’s boat underneath the docks and up to the shore, where he got out and pulled it ashore. He then dragged the boat into the shadows under the dock, where it would remain hidden, and crept cautiously into the outskirts of the town. From there he stealthily made his way towards the Blacksmith’s Shop. He tried to keep in the shadows, since the last thing he wanted at that moment was to attract more attention to himself than was necessary. As he reached the smithy he grinned as he saw light coming out from between the cracks in the wooden door. It appeared that dear William was doing overtime.

He didn’t want to knock, he wanted to make an entrance and perhaps scare the eunuch a little. Much more fun that way! He barged in, the door swung widely and heavily after Jack kicked it open. It collided with the wall as an unstoppable force would with an immovable object, and thus made quite a noise. Will dropped the hot poke he that he held in the fire on the floor in surprise. ‘Ye should pick that up lad. Wouldn’t want yer fine shop ta be lost in flames now would ye?’

‘Jack! You scared the living daylights out me!’ He said as he threw a death glare over his shoulder at his friend. ‘Curse you! I could have just done that!’ Will muttered incoherently as he picked the poke up from the ground and stamped on the floor to prevent the hay from catching fire. After he made sure nothing would catch flame, he walked over to his old friend and hugged him as though he would never let go.

‘There, there, mate. I knew you’d be happy to see me, but if ye keep holding onto me like this, I will have to start seriously doubting dear Lizzy’s ability to satisfy yer needs.’

‘That’s no way to speak of my wife, Jack,’ he retorted with slight irritation in his voice.

‘Forgive me. A thousand apologies,’ Jack said mockingly holding his palms together and bowing his head, his trinkets falling into his face.

‘Apology accepted. I swear, you pirates just don’t know how to behave,’ he mocked as he shook his head in despair.

‘I take it yer not a eunuch then... Although you do seem to be forgetting that pirate is in your blood as well lad.’

‘I never forget that, Jack. What brings you here anyway? I take it you’re not only here to talk about old times...’

‘You wound me, mate. In fact I am, I was reminiscing about the old times and since we were near Port Royal I merely thought of payin’ ye two a visit. Come ta think of it, where is the lovely and enchanting Mrs. Turner?’

‘Elisabeth is reading. She’s in for quite the surprise. She’ll be delighted to see you – if she hasn’t heard you already that is.’

The two men left the workshop and walked through a small hallway, entering the room where Elisabeth was reading and softly humming to herself. She was so engaged in her book that she didn’t even notice Will approach her as Jack sneaked in behind him.

‘Liz, love, look what the cat dragged in...’

Elisabeth took her eyes off the pages and looked at her husband for a brief moment, before returning her eyes to her book again. ‘Silly, we don’t even have a cat.’

Jack stepped out from behind Will, who doffed his tricorn off and bowed graciously at Elisabeth, but she didn’t even notice this as she still seemed lost in her book.

‘I think the whelp meant me luv. Though I must admit that I’d wagered that ye’d be a little more enthusiastic ta see ol' Jack.’

The woman almost jumped from her chair when she heard his voice, and she immediately dropped the book and hugged him.

‘Easy on the goods there, luv,’ Jack taunted while grinning from ear to ear.

‘What a wonderful surprise! It’s good to see you Jack. What have you been up to lately?’ She fired questions at him while she pulled out a chair and forced him down in it. ‘Do tell!’

He was tempted to make up an entertaining story, but given the fact that he knew how perceptive Elisabeth was, he just recounted his steps back to last time he had seem them both. Naturally that happened to be at the wedding he had attained, their wedding to be precise. While spouting off information about his last trip to Tortuga, the evil vixen he had met there entered his mind again. He quickly shoved her aside, since there was no need to tell the Turners about the Hellcat. No, no need at all.

Will uncorked a bottle of wine to celebrate their reunion, while Elisabeth made a small snack. Jack gulped down the fine red wine as if it were water, which naturally got Elisabeth slightly miffed. ‘Do you know how expensive that was, Jack? It’s a very rare French Bordeaux and it’s from a fine year as well.’ Elisabeth pointed out, agitated that Jack wasn’t sipping it like he should have been.

Jack grinned at her, ‘Oh but I do like it luv, it’s just that I prefer rum, not rare, just strong.’

Will suddenly rose from his chair furrowing his brow and tilting his head a little as though he was listening to something.

‘Something wrong with yer head, mate? Or do ye have problems holding yer wine? Some fine pirate ye are...’

‘Hush!’ he whispered. ‘I hear something.’

‘The voices inside yer mind talkin’ again, lad?’ Jack said smirking while emptying his glass in one swig.

Will waved his hands at Jack silently ordering him to keep his mouth shut.

‘No, what I hear is more of a scratching sound...’

Jack listened closely and found that he could hear it too. ‘It’s coming from yer workshop, mate. It’s nothing more than the cat that wants in,’ he said dismissively while taking a refill on his glass.

Will and Elisabeth replied simultaneously and exasperated, ‘We don’t have a cat!’

‘In that case, it won’t be the cat then, eh?’ Jack smirked as he downed some more of the wine.

Will stood up and walked towards his workshop, ‘I’ll just go take a look...’