A Pirate's Love

Courage

Elenor's POV:

I awoke with a slight shiver over my skin. My knees curled up to my chest to retain body heat, but my feet remained cold, causing a battle between warmth and chill. I desperately clawed at the covers and brought them over my shoulders with my eyes still closed. My fingertips felt icy as I briefly brushed them against my cheek at the motion. Another chill ran through my body. I rubbed my feet together under the sheets, yet they remained cold. I became as still as I could to hopefully regain heat. Nothing helped. I sleepily glanced over at the fire by the foot of my bed. The embers were glowing with no fire present. I could not tell what time of day it was as the thick, heavy curtains were drawn over the windows, blocking any light.

A sudden knock sounded at my door and it was quickly opened before I could answer. A maid strode in with a tray in hand. I watched her quietly as she set the tray down beside my bed. The smell of warm food filled my nose and I shifted to sit up.

"Oh, my lady," the maid said softly, "you're awake."

"Yes, it's rather cold in here," I responded, "what time is it?"

"Ten in the morning, my lady," she said, "I fear it will be a chilly day."

"Ten in the morning? Why did nobody wake me?" I sat up quickly as she opened the curtains, revealing broad daylight.

"We were told not to wake you so you could rest, miss," she responded.

"Told by whom?" I pressed. "I was supposed to speak with my father first thing this morning."

"The Governor, miss. We were told by the Governor." I scoffed at her words, annoyed by my father. Surely he suspected my intentions for the morning after our conversation.

"You must help me get dressed," I pleaded as I stood from my bed, to which she frowned.

"You must eat first my lady, you haven't had a meal for a while now. I was instructed to give you food." I studied her expression, seeing a look of fear in her eyes. My father's doing. Not wanting to get her in trouble, I sat back in my bed and accepted the food. She lifted the tray to me, revealing an array of breakfasts—eggs on toast, sausages, and fruit. My stomach grumbled at the sight. Maybe I was hungry.

"Could you send Sam in for me?" I asked her, to which she nodded and left the room. I started on the meal quickly, trying to inhale the food to get my day started as soon as possible. Soon Sam appeared in the doorway with a questioning face and I gulped down my mouthful of food. "Sam, I need your help," I stated, to which he moved closer to me in the room.

"Anything, Elenor," he said hurriedly, sensing my rush.

"I need you to go to the gaol and fetch Jake for me. I won't have any time if I go there myself. It's going to take me forever to dress because the ladies were instructed to keep me here," I spoke quickly and straightforwardly, earning a nod from Sam.

"Where should we meet you?" he asked, understanding.

"My father's office," I said, taking another bite of toast. Sam looked at me hesitantly, a veil of worry sweeping over his expression. I swallowed hard, the bread slightly scraping my throat.

"You don't need to show your face in the presence of my father. Not until after I have you pardoned. I won't let you be harmed because of this," I encouraged, to which he nodded again.

"I'll need some form of written order to give to the guards," he spoke plainly. I nodded while taking another bite and silently ushered for him to bring me a paper. I watched as he fiddled through a desk and retrieved paper, ink, stamp, and a quill, then brought it over in haste. I moved aside the plate on the tray and promptly began writing a letter to the guard, instructing them to temporarily release Jake for a private meeting with the Governor. With a mouthful of food, I signed my name and covered the stamp with ink, pressing it onto the page. I released it to reveal the crest of my father, then sealed the letter. I gave it to Sam, which he took and guarded it carefully. He looked deeply into my eyes, the gold flickers dancing brightly. "I will be swift," he promised, then walked to the door.

"Sam," I called, and he turned to look at me again. "Thank you," I said. He smiled softly, the corners of his eyes creasing, then walked out of the room and out of the manor. I sighed in relief, then instantly started finishing my food. Anxiety began to grow within me as I took the last bite. I set the tray aside and moved out of my bed, my eye catching a shimmer on my nightstand. The two crystal glasses and a bottle of wine still sat on the wood, drawing me in. I grabbed the bottle of liquid courage and popped off the cork, then immediately took a few long swigs of the sweet drink. It did not burn my throat like I wanted it to. It did not burn my nostrils at the mere smell of it like the rum I had drank on my journey here. I took another long swig before setting it back on the nightstand, not bothering to cork it. I called for the ladies to come in and help me dress, urging them to move quickly, yet they took their time with each piece of cloth. I shooed them away as soon as the last lace was tied and the last pin was placed, pushing away their prompting to finish my hair. I raced down the steps and to the carriage house, calling for a carriage to be drawn. The air was brisk and wintry, causing me to shiver more. I dreaded hopping into the cold carriage, but would rather take it than walk in the frigid morning. After a few minutes of settling the team, I hopped into the coach, instructing the driver to go to my father's office. I prepared myself for what was to come and what should be said. I hoped and prayed that my father would listen to my pleading, to the irrationality of his judgment, and settle for peace.

Before I knew it the carriage had stopped and I was in front of the capitol building. The door was opened for me and I was helped out. I looked at my surroundings, noticing the black carriage that Sam had taken to retrieve Jake. They had arrived sooner than I had, how long they were waiting I did not know. I walked up to it, a sudden nervousness sweeping over me. The door opened, revealing Sam. He stepped out and smiled at me, encouraging me to remain calm. A clamber of chains sounded from inside, catching my attention. My stomach tied in a knot again in anticipation. A figure stood in the dark carriage, holding iron chains attached at the wrists. Jake climbed out of the carriage carefully, trying to find his footing. Part of his hair was tangled in a dark sticky liquid, his eye black, and his cheekbone more swollen than I had seen him last. My heart sank at the sight of him. He huffed as he made his way down. Sam grabbed ahold of his elbow to help, then turned to me to give a worried look.

"You look lovely, darling," Jake breathed out, catching my attention. He smiled painfully, his voice visible in the cold air.

"Jake–" I gasped but was cut off quickly.

"Now, now," he interrupted as he held up a shackled hand, "we've got work to do, love. Let's keep our heads on straight and get this over with." His eyes pleaded with mine intensely, as if asking for confirmation that he could still trust me. I took a deep breath and composed myself, then made a sharp nod.

"Come on, then," I invited, turning to the steps to go inside. The clanging sound of shackles followed behind me, signifying Jake was close.

"Good luck," Sam called from the carriage. I glanced behind me and smiled at him, yet he had a sickly look on his face. He looked as if he had no hope in the world, as if all the color had drained from his complexion. My anxiety grew at the sight of him. Trying to push it away, I climbed up the steps, preparing to meet my father. I gulped down my anxiety and made my way inside, down the hall, and to my father's office. I turned to Jake before knocking on the door.

"Whatever happens," I started, making direct eye contact, "I need you to know," I paused, and he remained listening intently, gazing at me, "I will do everything I can to get you out of this mess." His expression softened as he looked around before taking a step closer to me.

"Elenor," he whispered, "whether I live or die, it will not be on your hands," he spoke gently, sending an unexpected peace over me. "Whatever happens, I will never hold it against you. Your father's decision will be based on my actions from this point on. We'll fight for it together, but I do not want you to feel the pressure of this weight alone. It's not yours to bear." We stood in a moment of silence, gazing at each other. Emotion began bubbling up in my chest. My throat and nose burned, trying to burst into tears. I desperately tried to hold them back, not wanting to break before seeing my father.

"I want you to live," I whispered back, wiping my eye before a tear could slip out. Jake cautiously glanced around us again, making sure there was no one watching. Seeing we were in the clear, he stepped closer to me, causing me to look up at him. He leaned forward, planting a gentle kiss on my lips. We savored each other for a moment before he pulled away, then took a step back, looking around again.

"Then I will live," he whispered again as he turned back to me. "Now come on, have courage. Let's go inside."