A Pirate's Song.

Chapter Twenty-One.

1749-1751

Evangeline.

I had known Deacon for around a month or so, he had taken me on many extravagant dates to fancy restaurants and the theater to witness a retelling of William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. He bought me gifts that consisted of jewelry, clothing and bouquets of flowers that I could show Tessa to fuel her newfound love of all things flower related.

He had suggested that I go to get fitted for a ball gown since his family would be hosting a banquet and I would be his date.

I stood in front of the full length mirror, eyeing the green material of the dress that wasn’t something I’d normally wear.

Deacon stood behind me, conversing with the tailor on what he wanted the gown to look like and exactly how it was to fit me. I turned this way then that, eyeing the emerald silk that made my already pale skin seem that much paler. Eventually I turned to address the two men.

“I don’t like it” I stated. It wasn’t that I was being ungrateful since such a dress would cost a fortune but if I had a say I would’ve bought the most inexpensive article of clothing and simply worn that instead. I didn’t like the over the top extremes that most women would go to just to look attractive. Deacon looked up at me, his eyes scanning me once more.

“What’s not to like?” I made a mental list of the things, starting with the giant puffs on the sleeves, the too tight corset, the large skirt that would knock someone out cold if I moved to abruptly. I huffed and decided to take a more-subtle approach.

“The color, it makes me look dead” I replied, looking at myself in the mirror again. The dark green would look beautiful on someone with a darker skin tone and hair, however it made me look like I was getting dressed for a ball meant for the undead. The tailor seemed to have the same thoughts in mind.

“Well it does draw the eyes away from her” he agreed, noting that if I were to walk into a room wearing such a dress that everyone would notice the gown and not the person wearing it.

Deacon looked to the tailor then gave the same smile he always did. “Nonsense. Emerald is the color that symbolizes success in love” he argued, moving to stand behind me, his hands gripping my shoulders and giving them a firm squeeze.

Deacon was quiet the romantic, a man who enjoyed spoiling a woman, making her feel special but what I had failed to realize up until then was that he used his charm to mislead and manipulate women.

“What does the color of the dress matter when it is me you’ll be introducing?” I asked, my eyes locking onto his in the reflection of the mirror. We had shared a few faint kisses, nothing too extreme since it went against all that he stood for as a noble. He breathed a heavy sigh.

“I want you to leave a good impression on them” he admitted, his eyes filling with a sense of fear as he glanced off to one side where more dresses lined the wall.

The tailor retracted from the conversation, instead going to roll up his tape measure and put it away in one of the many boxes that decorated the shelves.

“And I will, by being myself” I said, turning to face him with my hands gripping the skirt of the dress to ensure that I didn’t knock something over in the process. Deacon looked at me, the love in his eyes turning to slight anger and annoyance.

“Evangeline-.” he began but I cut him off. I never was one to bite my tongue when I felt it necessary to speak and he wouldn’t be the exception. If he cared for me or loved me like he said, he did then he wouldn’t be ashamed of who I was.

“Are you embarrassed to have me, Deacon Daughvis?” I asked. The tailor went still, his muscles stiffening at my abrupt question, a question that was coming from the mouth of an orphan, directed at a nobleman of high status. He had most likely never heard anyone speak like that to a person of status before.

“Of course not, it’s just, my parents-.” he gave a small, sad smile at the mention of them. From the few weeks that I had known him, it was clear to see that he didn’t really get along with his parents. I decided to give him a chance to speak, wanting to hear what he had to say.

“They don’t approve of you, of us-.” it was like a sting, a burn that scorched me as I stood there, the tailor awkwardly trying to busy himself while I accepted what I had been expecting deep down. I nodded my head.

“So all this is for them?” I questioned, raising my arms to motion to the dress that hung on my body, drowning me in its silks and beadings. Deacon placed that same old smile on his face, brushing off the importance of the issue as he turned me to look at myself in the mirror once more.

“That, and you look stunning in green” there it was, the flirtatious breath that lingered on the shell of my ear, the sly grin with his green eyes smiling so seductively in the hopes of me giving into his charm. When I only stared at him with a stern face, he decided to nuzzle the side of my neck.

“You’ll make the perfect noblewoman” his words struck me, the kiss he placed on my jaw went unnoticed as I processed his words.

There I was, standing in a tailor’s shop, wearing a fancy dress with a nobleman showering me in attention. I wasn’t made for that world, the world of expensive gifts and status. I moved away from Deacon, shaking my head as he stood rooted in place.

“I am not a noblewoman” I tore the dress from my body and tossed it aside, leaving me in only a nude corset and pantaloons. The tailor nearly jumped out of his own skin when I turned to meet Deacon with my head held high and my shoulders rolled back.

“I am an orphan girl-.” I firstly motioned to the many dresses that hung on the walls then to the racks of materials and expensive thread.

“And all of this isn’t who I am” with that I stormed past him, heading in the direction of the door, opening it to let the small bell chime. I paused, looking back at Deacon, my eyes darting between the two men.

“I want no part of this world” I declared, turning to leave.

Gasps and insults rang as I made my way back to the orphanage, the people staring at the sight of the girl in only her undergarments.

Deacon didn’t bother to follow me, didn’t care to stop me as I retracted myself from him and the world he had grown up in, the world of status. I found myself feeling alone as I stood in that long room with beds lining either side, beds made with grey sheets while bed side tables had empty drawers.

It had been only a few months since I had walked out on Deacon, choosing to be myself instead of becoming someone else.

Tessa, Andrew, Henry, they had all been adopted but there I remained in that sad space.

It was late at night and I was stood in my white night gown, staring down at the palms of my hands in the moonlight as I turned them over, examining their flawless, pale texture.

My eyes landed on the sea beyond the window at the far end of the room, the waters that called out to me, beaconing me closer.

I dropped my hands to my sides and moved towards the pane of glass, reaching out to caress its cold surface with my palms. The pull had become stronger, like a tug on my heart telling me that I needed to go there, I needed to be somewhere other than that grey room where nothing ever happened.

I slid the window open, being careful not to wake Lady Harlow or any of the other women who worked at the orphanage as I climbed out. Both feet met with grass simultaneously with my eyes directed towards the water, starting to glow a bright silver-sapphire.

‘A heart of the sea’ the wind and crashing waves seemed to whisper in my ears as I began walking toward it. I didn’t have control over my actions or my thoughts as I moved, my mind almost blank, consumed by something beyond my control.

The grass turned to cobblestone roads that faded into grains of sand when I reached the shore, having passed by a tavern in my journey to reach the water.

I danced along the rocks with little fear, going as deep as they would allow me to venture. I came to a sudden halt at the edge of the boulders, my eyes returning to normal as I gripped the side of my head, blinking rapidly in my attempt to clear the fog that clouded it.

Why was I there? Why can’t I remember how I’d gotten there?

My eyes focused on the water, on my reflection in the light of the moon, my eyes beginning to glow again. I was once again taken over by the unknown force.

‘Return to me’ it whispered. I stumbled and was thrown back against the rocks when my foot caught and my back collided with a solid surface. My breathing came in short ragged breaths, my hands gripping the wall of rocks behind me as I stared out onto the water with wide, confused eyes.

I slid down the rock until I was sat with my knees pressed firmly up against my chest.

I couldn’t remember anything, not the words that had been whispered to me, not the tempting lure of the ocean or how I had gotten there on those rocks to begin with.

Time seemed to tick on as I sat there, eventually gaining the courage to dip my toes into the water, watching as silver scales began to form against my milky skin. I studied them, running my fingers along their pattern as I hummed a tune to myself.

A drunken man had stumbled out onto the docks, holding a bottle of alcohol in his hand. At the edge of the peer he narrowed his eyes to stare out onto the sea.

My head shot up when his bottle shattered at his feet and he frantically yelled out.

“Pirates!” I slowly stood at the sight of the ship with black sails nearing the docks, the drunken man hurrying off to alert the rest of the town.

My eyes locked onto a set of gold ones, gold eyes that seemed so familiar yet so foreign to me. The golden eyes of a pirate Captain.

Whatever had lead me to the water had lead me directly into the grasp of one Caleb Campbell, it had lead me there with a purpose, a role that I had to fulfil but in that moment, I had no idea that meeting Caleb wasn’t just a cruel trick that life decided to play on me but my destiny.

It was fate, dragging me into something I had long since then been deemed a part of.