The Pirate's Bride

CHAPTER I

"I will be back in a couple of weeks."

A sigh escaped Esther's throat. She dipped her chin once more.

One exchange of fond smiles later, Jonathan spun on his heel and headed right out of the living room. He grabbed his suitcase - a relatively small suitcase, considering that he was never gone for less than three months - and went for the door.

Esther dashed after him, outrunning their maid that had rushed for the door, too. Grace hesitated and Esther sent her a nod, indicating that she and Jonathan were fine on their own.

Jonathan had put on his coat. It was a fine coat, a rich dark red in shade and with a high collar. Esther tugged at it now, adjusting like she always did; like all ladies seemed to do when bidding farewell to their men before they set out. Once again, she stood on her toes and pecked her husband's lips.

"Good luck, dear," she said, even though she didn't know what it was that she was wishing him good luck with.

Jonathan sent her a small smile and with that, was gone.

Esther sighed and closed the door. With a low hum of disappointment, she leaned against the hard wood, resting her head back and letting her gaze rove the high ceiling.

"Do you need anything, milady?" Grace asked.

Esther glanced at the maid. She rather liked her, the soft-spoken girl whom she had picked up from the street several months back. In the midst of winter, one of the severest of the past couple of years, the poor thing had been sitting at the door of the inn, where hot air would flow out whenever someone opened the door, and begging the passersby for food. No one would stop and look twice at the trembling child, but Esther couldn't have simply walked past such a terrible instance of fate's cruelty. She had offered the girl a couple silver coins, but she refused. Instead, she'd asked for a warm meal at the inn and Esther did not hesitate. During the meal, she'd proposed her to work for her at her place and Grace had been more than thankful to accept it.

Esther may be rich now, but it hadn't always been this way. As a matter of fact, hers and Jonathan's families had once been two of the poorest in the town they lived in. They had been promised to each other almost since Esther's birth and they had got married in a small church, with hardly any guests - only both of their parents, Jonathan's younger sister and Esther's aunt. There was nobody else they could invite, nor did they have the means to provide the food for a larger number of people.

They'd spent the first year of their marriage in miserable conditions. And then, miraculously, Jonathan found a job. It hadn't at first seemed to Esther that it'd be able to improve their situation, but oh, how wrong had she been! Only after Jonathan's first trip, their situation had improved drastically.

"Milady? I asked whether you needed something?"

Esther blinked and shook herself out of her reverie. "No, Grace, thank you. I'm all right."

She walked past the girl, jogged up the stairs and headed towards her and Jonathan's room. The big bed in which the two of them slept evoked another wave of disappointment and it washed over her like the waves wash over the shore. She would have to sleep in it on her own from now on; she would have no one to hug, no one to kiss and no one to chase away the coldness of the night.

Outside the window, the view was growing dimmer. A couple lanterns were lit, diffusing the darkness. Some would dangle from the occasional carriage a horse pulled down the street. In the distance, masts and sails and the rigging of ships mooring at the docks were visible, black against the golden-orange backdrop of sky at dusk.

This is where Jonathan is headed - it crossed Esther's mind.

If there was one thing that she did know about Jonathan's job, it was that it involved ships. She had asked him once if she could accompany him to the port, but he wouldn't let her... for some reason. That question had driven him slightly round the bend and Esther still shuddered at the memory of his clenched fists and his eyes sparking with anger when she insisted he took her with him some time. He hadn't hit her - he would never - but that image, that red-faced, heavy-breathing Jonathan, was etched into her brain probably forever. Up to this day, Esther had no idea why he'd reacted so violently, but she knew it wasn't her place to ask - so she didn't.

With a sigh, she sunk onto the bed. It was soft, so soft it almost felt like she was about to fall right through the mattress and onto the floor. The mattress was covered with a navy blue duvet and surrounded by four posters, with drapes slightly brighter in shade than the sheets. Esther despised it when she was alone. Loved it when shared with Jonathan, loathed when lonely and too big for a single person to sleep in.

She slowly lowered herself onto her pillows and closed her eyes, evening out her breath, while her fingers fidgeted with her necklace - a tiny, blue shell on a piece of simple rope. She would always play around with it when she was deep in thought, and currently her mind couldn't be stopped from wandering to Jonathan. To the work he did every once in several months and to his 'I'm going out to sea to provide us with a good life' which he said every time Esther found it in her to ask. It often occurred to her how peculiar it was that Jonathan made more money than most people in their village, only working a couple months a year and staying home for the rest of it. Esther never complained - until it was time for the parting, that is - and cherished the moments he could spend with her while the men she knew had to break their backs every single day to earn enough to survive.

She didn't complain, but that didn't mean she was blind to how weird it was. No, she knew perfectly well that it was something out of the ordinary. Her friends frowned upon it. Said that it was suspicious. Urged her to talk to him about it, convince him to tell her the truth.

But she trusted Jonathan. She loved him with all her heart. And she couldn't imagine anything that Jonathan would hide from her if it weren't for her own good.

So she rarely asked, almost hadn't spoken about Jonathan's job whatsoever, ever since that one incident.

But... perhaps she should? Perhaps she ought to make Jonathan reveal to her the nature of his work, explain why he was so secretive about it and why any mention of it drove him so mad?

And perhaps... she should have done that a long time ago?

The very thought of it made her nervous. The mere idea that she would have to confront that red-faced Jonathan again made her shudder. He was normally a warm, gentle man, kind and well-mannered towards everyone, but he had a side to him that Esther didn't quite like to explore or witness. A side that would sometimes awaken when someone, anyone angered him... including Esther.

Granted, that didn't happen often, but she was more than aware of its existence.

Her eyes, driven by something deep inside her that didn't usually take over, drifted back to the window. A dark blue hue was slowly, gradually swallowing the sunset's warmth. Stars were starting to twinkle. The moon, an almost round orb that was pale and ghostly against the pitch darkness, was already clearly visible, and the sun had become but a memory.

How much time had passed since Jonathan left? Ten minutes? Half an hour? Two hours? Esther did not know.

Had Jonathan reached the docks yet? Esther didn't know that either.

And if he hadn't... would she manage to catch up to him before his ship left?

Esther froze. She realised she'd started to rise from the bed. But why would she have done that? To follow Jonathan?

She held her breath. That must've been a subconscious thought and it was an insane one. It went against everything she had been taught as a child - to be a mild-mannered, dutiful wife. Do what your man tells you. Be agreeable. Be polite. And provide your man with a child.

Esther pushed that last thought away at once.

With an air of newfound determination, she threw her legs over the edge of the mattress, stood up and stomped right out of the room, down the steps and into the hall. Not waiting for any of her servants to react, she grabbed her coat, flung the door open and strode outside.

She had to hurry or she'd miss him.