Port Royal, Jamaica

******

"Seriously, Millicent! Did he look that scary?" bright eyes filled with intrigue for adventure and the unknown leaned forward anxiously waiting for her best friend to continue the tale.

" Scary me se, him wear a patch over him eye like so," Milicent covered one eye.

A brief silence passed between the two before they erupted into cackles of laughter.

Straddling a large tree branch, the two young girls sat and spoke of the seedy pirates that frequented the port.

Port Royal was a popular safe-haven for pirates and a commodity due to its location of easy access to their prey on the trade routes.

It was a fascination they held speaking about the privateers turned to debauchery and mutiny.

If her nanny or mother ever gets wind of such talk, she would surely be chastised. A young miss as she, innocent and cloistered should not know what goes on beyond the walls to her plantation home.

But, if it weren't for her friend Millicent who snuck around those parts, she would never know about such things.

They were different as night and day. Where Millicent was native to these parts, she had that rich Caribbean hue of beautiful dark caramel skin, long black tight curly hair, and deep brown eyes. Whereas Tempest was the total opposite. She grew up in these parts. Her skin was proof of many days playing in suns rays giving her a peaches and cream gold tan. She had wild chestnut brown hair and luminous dark aquamarine eyes that resembled the dangerous waters of the Sargasso Sea, therefore her father named her Tempest.

The noonday caught them happily lounging in one of the tall trees nearing the sugarcane fields her grandfather owned. Hot humid air mixed with salty tropical breeze brushed over them both as they enjoyed their day.

They soon fell into whispers and soft laughs until her name was called.

Sitting upright they peered through the branches watching her nanny search for her. They giggled as the elderly woman called to her; flushed with the midday heat, fanning her face and holding up her skirts carefully as she walked stumbling over uneven ground.

As she came closer she stopped just a few footsteps away from them.

"Tempest!" She shouted again looking high and low for the girl that held a mischievous grin in the branches above her.

When the woman bellowed again, Tempest answered her from above in the tree.

"I am up here, Nanna Josephine," she said.

Smiling at Millicent she turned to watch the woman spin around and look up then gasp.

"Young Lady! Get down from there this instant," Josephine shook her head.

Tempest shook her head playfully and giggled at the elder woman stomping and fuming in anger.

"No."

"Tempest get down this instant or I will tell your father of your boorish and unladylike behavior," she stomped again pointing to the ground.

Tempest scowled crossing her arms before her.

"You betta go," Millicent shook her head with a smile.

Giving up the standoff, she shimmied down the tree with ease until she landed on the pads of her bare feet before Josephine.

"Good Heavens! Look at you, Tempest," Josephine shook her head.

Horrified she gave Tempest a disapproving once over.

"There is not enough time in this day that we have left to get you ready," her gaze rested on Tempest's rumpled gown, wild hair, and dirty bare feet.

"Time for what Nana?" Tempest frowned at the woman's perplexed look as she frantically began to pace and fan herself.

"Why to get you ready dear girl. We have dinner guests arriving in an hour's time. By the time we return it will not be enough time to ready you. It's very important that you are present," Josephine huffed.

She stopped pacing as she heard Tempest giggle.

"You're so silly nana. Georgette can take us back," She laughed.

Josephine stiffened and looked at Tempest as she pointed behind her. The nanny turned to look at Georgette and paled. With a scrunched-up nose and disdainful stare, Josephine watched the scraggly beast tied to a tree, snort and switch its tail to swat away the flies on its back.

She turned then to Tempest with her nose in the air.

"I will do no such thing. I will not go near that....nag..look at her she can barely stand up straight."

Tempest shrugged off the insult of her horse that once belonged to her grandfather.

"Suit yourself, I will ride back alone then."

"You will not. If your father sees you riding that thing back home...bareback!!!...he will have my head on a platter. Now let us walk with haste we don't have time," she began to step forward.

With a glum look, she waved to Millicent that still sat in her spot and waved back staring at Tempest and Josephine walking off towards their home.

Shaking her head, Milicent smiled as the older woman fussed with her friend as they continued on... to walk straight, hold your head up, don't sulk so...

********

In no time she was rushed through the kitchen towards the back steps leading to her room where her two maids Lily and Ernestine worked fast to get her ready.

She was dunked in a tub of water where she was scrubbed clean under the disappointing huffs of her nanny that began cleaning the grime from beneath her nails. In a blur, she was lifted out of the filmy perfumed water and dried off then sat on her chair.

Nervously, Ernestine dried and combed her unruly tresses as the curly wet strands seemed difficult to tame.

Finally, squeaky clean and smelling fresh as rain she was helped into a beautiful evening gown that her father brought back from London. They stood back with satisfied smiles admiring their handy work as she turned to look at herself in the mirror.

With a shiver, she stepped closer to observe her appearance. The lacing at the back accentuated her small waist and moderate cleavage, and the color made her eyes appear lighter.

She felt out of sorts with it all. She has never dressed so. There was never a need. They rarely had guests. Very few traveled these parts as of late due to the unbearable heat and weather. She was accustomed to it.

"You look absolutely breathtaking," the familiar deep voice pulled her away from her musings.

She turned slowly to look at her father standing near the door. Dressed in his uniform he looked regal and distinguished. She smiled taking in his warm gaze upon her. He raised his hands and she walked slowly into his outstretched arms.

He kissed her forehead and slowly pulled her away to hold her at arm's length.

"Papa who is coming to visit us?" She asked.

With a sigh, he lovingly cupped her cheeks. Before tapping her nose playfully.

"It is a surprise. Now come let us be off to supper before your grandfather finishes off my port and begins to eat without us." He offered his arm for her to hold as they descended the steps into the main dining room.

When they arrived, two gentlemen stood from their chairs. Her gaze fell on them both one in uniform just like her father's and the other in evening attire. They smiled sweetly at her.

"Gentlemen, I present to you my daughter Tempest." They politely bowed.

"Tempest, I present to you Mr. Faulkner, my solicitor, and Captain Monroe, he navigates the Floating Pearl." She turned to them with a smile and dipped into a curtsy.

"Shall we gentleman?" he pointed to the table and pulled out a chair for her to sit then they followed.

"Admiral Whitwell, you never mentioned you had such a beautiful daughter." Captain Monroe smiled.

She looked away shyly with a demure smile from the older gentleman that spoke.

"Indeed, I have not, " he chuckled.

"She will be the Belle of the coming season I don't doubt it." He added.

She stiffened.

"The season?" She looked at her father.

He leaned forward and poured wine for them all waiting for dinner to be served.

"Yes, my dear it is time for your coming out. This season you will be attending, your mother has sent word that she wants you to attend," he told her.

She swallowed hard at the lump forming in her throat. The London season. She would have to leave for London.

"Pish, posh...say it like it is, The marriage market," The grumbly voice behind her spoke up.

Slowly she turned to watch her grandfather enter and took a seat beside her. Barely, he looked at the men seated before them.

"Hello poppet," he bent over and placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Hello grandfather," she whispered with a smile that barely touched her lips.

Her gaze fell to her fathers that glared angrily at her grandfather.

Ignoring her father, he continued.

"All it is is just a fancy way to prance around the poor girl like a chess piece for her mother's ambitious social gain," he huffed.

She lowered her head. Saddened by her grandfather's words.

"Hold your tongue old man, That is my wife you are insulting." her father hissed.

"Yes and a very ungrateful daughter. She sends word for her pawn to come out but does she send word to ask of my well-being? No...." he pounded the table with his fist.

A long stretch of silence followed. The men before them uncomfortably exchanged weary glances.

"She is going. End of story," her father leaned forward.

Tempest's gaze shot up to meet his.

Unable to speak, her heart raced in her chest with her grandfather's next words.

"Yes, send my only grandchild to some poor old lech. The more wealth the better," He scoffed sarcastically.

She paled.

"Enough!!!" Her father fumed.

" Tell me, will the poor dear be a widow come her wedding night?" Her grandfather questioned.

Tears filled her eyes as she gasped in horror looking at her father that did not contradict her grandfather's words. He barely looked her way.

"Will the old buzzard you choose, at least be able to consummate the marriage?"

The gentleman coughed sputtering wine.

"That is enough!" Her father shouted furiously...

She grew nauseous and bolted out of her chair and ran to her room. Tears blurred her vision.

She fled through the door slamming it shut and locking it. She turned in tears, wept uncontrollably, and fell to her bed.

It wasn't until some time had passed that a solid tap came from her door and the deep rumble of her father's voice could be heard on the other side. In an unwavering tone, he bid her open the door so that he could talk to her. Some time had passed before she stood and slowly walked to the door to let him in. She backed away with her head held low. He stood mere inches from her before gently reaching for her hands and pulling her over to a small settee in the corner.

A long stretched silence filled the awkward void between them before he began to speak again.

"I know this is all very sudden. But you must understand Tempest that this is what is expected of you." He said gently cupping her cheek and peering into her eyes.

"Why? Why must I? I do not want to leave here." She sniffled.

He sighed.

"My dear, the London season is upon us and it is about time you make your debut. You missed last year. Your mother will have a fit if you miss this one as well," He said.

She lowered her head and slowly dashed away her tears.

"Sweetheart, if I had a say in this matter, you could stay but my hands are tied. You must take up your obligation of finding a suitable marriage prospect," He whispered then continued.

" You can not spend your days running about wild, free, and barefoot on this land. Those days are behind you. You're a young lady of noble birth," He held her chin up.

She looked away from his gaze. For the first time in a long time panic filled her chest and threatened to consume her, dreading that this day would come. The time when she must leave this beautiful island for the London season and be amongst her peers. But it was inevitable she must go.

She lowered her head in silent acceptance of his words. Her bitter reality hung over her as the urge of a verbal refusal threatened to spill from her lips, but it could not.

"Do not worry father, I know what is required of me now." She whispered softly ...Sad, painful regret flashed across his face as her shoulders slouched in defeat and more tears slid from her eyes.

With that said, she sat and listened quietly as her father spoke softly of her departure to London in two days' time. 'Home ' he mentioned. She drew in a deep breath holding in her tears until he left.

Before she could think about his words, like a bolt of lightning, they vanished.

"Home was where the heart was," she whispered to herself.

And her home was Jamaica...

*********

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