The Pirate King's Plunder

*Chapter One*

June 1, 1735

~ The Masquerade Ball ~

She brought the ruby ring to her lips, kissing it as she had done so many times before, uttering the same prayer she always uttered before an event like this unfolded.

"M'lady, they are waiting for you." Constantine said quietly, her shy voice awaking Jezebel from her reminiscing thoughts.

"Are they now?" She asked, turning away from the window as she glared at her new maid.

The young girl swallowed, anxiously brushing her auburn hair out of her face, pulling it behind her ear. It was something Jezebel had noticed that the eleven year old girl only did when she was nervous.

"Are you nervous?" The girl stared hard at her feet, her eyes never leaving the wood floor.

"Yes, m'lady." She murmured, licking her lips as she pulled her hair behind her ear again. Jezebel tried to keep the smirk off her face for she quite enjoyed seeing the young girl squirm under the pressure. Now do try to be nice to the poor girl. This is her first job as a servant and you are making it very difficult for her.

She sighed exasperatedly at her level-headed conscious, turning away from the maid. "Do tell what it is you came up here to tell me. I am most sorry that I interrupted you," she paused, nearly sneering when she added, "Constantine."

She heard the girl sigh in relief as Constantine scuffed her boots along the floor. "I came to tell you, m'lady, that your mother wished for you to join her in the ball room. The Masque has begun."

"Ah, yes. The bloody Masque that I must attend. Oh do excuse me when I try to contain my joy." Jezebel replied flatly, looking down at the ruby ring as she brought it to her lips once more. "Shall we dance, Papa?" She murmured to the ruby.

~ ~ ~

"Darling Jezebel! I am so glad that you were able to join us!" Her mother exclaimed breezily, wielding her arm around the room so carelessly that the woman nearly spilt her wine filled goblet.

"Oh Mother! Please do try to contain yourself! We are at a Masque, are we not? No one is supposed to know our identities. A Masque that we are overseeing for these people are at our home, or have you forgotten that as well?" Jezebel huffed, quickly slipping her glittering silver mask over her eyes as she surveyed the joyous crowd.

The ladies were wearing gorgeous dresses, the sequins glinting in the light of the chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, their dresses ranging in so many colors it appeared as though a rainbow had exploded in the room, draping it's color over the ladies' dresses.

They twirled endlessly around the room to the violinist's lively strings, gentlemen leading them from side to side with the men's smart white ties and slick black coats shining in the glow of the chandeliers candles.

"Please, Jeze-"

"Mother!"

"Oh, yes," her mother covered her mouth to suppress her girlish giggle. "I almost forgot about our little secret."

"And what secret would that be, Ms. Davidson?" A deep voice asked behind the two women, causing Jezebel's mother to whirl around with such speed that several drops of her wine did escape her glass.

"Oh Porter, do not sneak up on us in such a way! Why you nearly gave me a fright!" Her mother exclaimed rather loudly, causing several people to turn and stare.

"Oh Mother! Must you make such a scene?" Jezebel muttered, beginning to walk away from the flirtatious Mr. Porter and her very merry Mother as she made her way into the dancing crowd.

"May I have this dance?" Someone asked behind her.

Without turning around to face the speaker, Jezebel felt his hand wrap gently around hers as he attempted to turn her around. Foolish man.

"No, only when I feel the need to dance shall I dance at all, sir." Was her whispered reply as she slipped out of his reach, continuing on her way through the throng of people.

"Oh, who was that you were chatting with?" A chipper voice asked Jezebel, looping it's arm through hers as she began walking toward the estate's sprawling garden.

"Do no get your hopes up, Grace, I did not even see the lad's face. He wanted to dance and I denied him the opportunity to do so." She told her good friend, Grace Winfred, the girl's coal-like eyes widening as she threw her head in laughter, her ash black hair falling in long ringlets down her back.

"Why the audacity you have to deny a man such a thing!" Grace's laugh tinkled like bells as the two young women began walking down the steps that led to her mother's prized rose garden.

"It is not an audacity. More of an atrocity." Jezebel smirked as the two giggled under the stars, their brilliant dresses sparkling like a thousand glittering diamonds.