Chapter 7

" Y OU SHOULD OPEN IT," Agatha nudged the man. Damn it, she really needed to know his name. It felt foolish, unable to refer to him by name. Far too foolish for her liking. Hissing Pirate fell flat as a command, and whisper-shouting Captain felt as though she were going along far too deeply into the roleplay of the masquerade ball. If he wanted to keep his eye patch on, she would let him have that power. But she wasn't about to submit herself to him in her mind—her betraying body had already relinquished enough control over to him.

"What's your name?" she hissed, watching him hoist his eyes open. Oh yes, her legs trembled, remembering the sensation she had just had with him. It felt empowering that her body had made him physically react to her so strongly as well. It was a power she had never wielded before, but having done so now made her hungry for more.

"Me?" His finger was lazily poised against his chest, slightly lower than a sober person might gesture.

Of course, at that she rolled her eyes.

"Yes, you. "

He trailed his hands down to the desk and pushed off of it, still not answering her question. Sluggishly he sauntered over to the door.

"What should I call you?"

"Nothing. You should never call me." He said, shaking his head.

Her growl slash grumble had its intended effect.

"Fine. Jude," he muttered in a quiet gripe. "Just call me Jude."

"Well, Jude," the name bounced off of her back teeth and curled out of her lips, "I'll hide while you open the door."

Ducking behind the settee, she peeked out from behind it as she watched him open the door.

"Oh," a gasp greeted his disgruntled, "What do you want?"

"I'm sorry," a familiar voice apologized. "I thought someone I knew was in here."

"She's not—" Jude started.

"I didn't say it was a woman—"

"I'm here," Agatha popped up, recognizing the knocker. "Quickly, come inside, Clara."

"Oh my." Clara's eyes swiveled back and forth between Agatha and Jude while her hand rested limply against his open mouth.

"Wh-what's going on in here?" Clara rushed to her side and Agatha felt compelled to reassure her.

"It's nothing," Agatha rushed to say.

"Nothing?" Jude scoffed.

"You said that's what I should call you."

"I said to call me Jude," he gritted out.

Agatha paid him no mind as she turned to her sister. "Ignore him. He's the most irritable, fake pirate I have ever met."

More grumbles came from Jude as she plodded on in her explanation to Clara. "Don't worry. Nothing happened." A twinge of guilt swept through her for lying to her sister, but this was not the time nor place (namely, in front of Jude) to divulge that her world had just been irrevocably altered. No, she could not give him the satisfaction or the power of that knowledge.

"You're lucky that it was me who found you in here. Uncle was worried when he didn't see you after your dance, but I told him I knew where you were. Luckily I guessed right. By the way, he didn't look happy about that." Clara was speaking out of nearly closed lips.

"Happy about what?"

Her sister tilted her head toward Jude.

"The dance?"

Her sister's eyebrows rose in affirmation.

"Pfft. He has nothing to worry about." Agatha shot Jude a look.

"I need to get going," Jude tangled his hands in his wavy locks, accidentally bumping his eye patch on the way up. Hastily, he ripped it off of his face. "You two are fine here on your own."

"Have to return to your ship?" Agatha teased. Surely now he would drop the facade. With the eye patch slippage.

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"Safe travels," Agatha wiggled her fingers at him as though she couldn't care less if he left. But as he turned toward the door, she felt a yank on her heart. Almost as if a thick corded rope was tied around her chest and he was the anchor attached to the other end. Foolishness, that.

She was not the type to swoon over a man. Yes, she had been placed in awkward situations before; namely when her mother forced her to wear a certain color of gown to attract attention from a duke because it had been his favorite color. Obviously everyone knew how that had turned out. She had looked the fool, and he had found true love. In someone not so foolish as to believe that the color of her gown could sway a man's heart. Good for him. One day it would be her turn. That day was not today. Even if she had just experienced her first kiss, and it had been slightly more earth-shattering than she expected, she knew it meant nothing to him.

Besides, he was drunk. How earth-shattering could a drunken kiss really be?

"What the devil is going on in here?" a deep voice bellowed.

Drat!

Her Uncle Bernard blew into the room.

"Nothing," Clara and Agatha both squeaked out.

"I demand an explanation, Cap–"

"Nothing is going on here," Jude interrupted.

"What are you doing in here with two impressionable young women?"

Jude scoffed, assumedly at the word impressionable given what just happened.

"Don't you dare give me that attitude. I asked a question. And I require an answer."

Agatha had never seen her uncle's ire, had never seen less than a neutral expression on his face. He wasn't over jolly per se, but he was always in a good mood. Obviously seeing his two nieces with a gentleman would prompt questions, but at least the two of them were together. He shouldn't be so upset.

"Don't worry, Bernard. I was just leaving. I'll be on my way. For the last time." He cast a withering glance at her uncle, but he didn't so much as blink. "And then you'll never have to see me again."

Uncle Bernard grunted a semblance of a response, and then Jude made his escape.

Without so much as a goodbye.

Agatha's heart flipped and dropped to the ground with a thud. She shouldn't feel that way. What did she expect though, a goodbye kiss ?

"Once he sets sail, he'll be gone. And I don't want to see you in the company of that man again."

"Sets sail?"

"He's a bloody privateer."

"A…a what?" Thrown by her uncle's expletive, she wasn't sure she heard him correctly. Jude was a privateer? That couldn't be right. He would have told her. Or corrected her at least one of the times she insisted he was a pirate. God, she felt like a ninny.

"Damn it, Agatha. If you ever chose to heed some advice from me, let it be this. Do not see that man again."

"He's a real pirate?" Her mouth was fumbling around the words. And the concept.

"He's a privateer. Didn't I just say that?" Uncle Bernard gripped his jacket too tightly.

"Why are you so upset, Uncle?"

At that, he moved toward her and placed his hands on her shoulder. "Just please promise me that you will stay away from him."

"But—"

"Don't make me involve your mother, Agatha."

Her spine stiffened. Uncle Bernard had always been the reasonable one. Had always been someone she could trust, count on, and confide in. And she had always felt that way because he had taken her side against her mother, his own sister. But this was new territory. And if only he had been willing to explain it, she might not have made the decision she made next.

But he hadn't explained it at all. Not all of it, not a portion of it, not even a smidgeon of it. He had just warned her off of him.

Danger.

World travels.

Experiences .

And though those words may have been a warning to every other lady in attendance this evening, they were not a warning to her.

In fact, they were precisely what she was seeking.

Biting her tongue, she nodded. "I'll see you back in the ballroom." Uncle Bernard sighed in relief and exited the room.

"I know that look, Agatha," Clara chided. "What are you thinking of doing?"

"I think I'm going to finally live my life, Clara."

"Please don't tell me you're going to do what I think you are."

"Probably," she smirked at her sister.

"How?"

"I'm going to follow him. There's probably not much time." Her heart thudded in her chest and her knees shook. And it had nothing to do with Jude personally—probably—and everything to do with the idea that she must just get a chance to travel around the world, see something, experience something she had never encountered before.

Clara's eyes darted to the door. "You'll have to leave now."

"You think I should do it?" Her heart was galloping now and her palms were drenched in sweat.

"I don't know, but I know you should do what your heart is telling you to do."

"Oh my God, Clara. What if the worst thing happens?"

"Forget that, Aggie. What if the best thing happens?"

A shiver ran up the outside of Agatha's legs.

"What if it all works out? What if the best is yet to come?"

Clara blurred in front of her, and she swiped at her eyes. "You're right. I have to do this. I'm going. You'll cover for me?"

"I'll do the best I can." Clara reached into her reticule and offered a vial to Agatha. "Take this."

"What is it? "

"Valerian. It'll help you sleep should you find being out on the waters poorly affects your stomach."

"Why do you have this?"

"Do you know our mother?"

Agatha chuckled.

"Sometimes I slip it into my tea to calm my nerves, especially before bed."

"Is that how you do it? That's the secret to your permanently calm demeanor?" Agatha was truly shocked at her sister's confession.

"It's part of it." Clara winked. "Now, you need to go."

Together they squeezed each other's hands and started to hop up and down.

"This is it."

"Yes," Clara squealed.

"This might change everything."

"It will change everything." They took each other in an embrace. "Now go!"

"I love you." She kissed her sister's cheek.

"I love you, too."

When Agatha pulled away, she watched Clara discreetly wipe a tear from her eye. "I'm fine. I'm happy for you."

"You're the best sister in the world."

"That's to be determined. But once you travel it, you can let me know with certainty."

Agatha had to leave now else she lose her courage.

"I don't have to travel it to know." Clara nodded with red rimmed eyes and happy smile at her words. Words of which she was already absolutely confident. Agatha skipped to the door, lighter and happier than she had ever felt before. "I'll see you soon."

Now that, she wasn't as sure about.