Fred Came Back

Chapter Three

Jack sneered into the wind as he sauntered across the main deck. While still adorned in his loose cotton shirt that was once a fine gentleman's tunic, the fabric now looked only slightly better than a peasant's garment. His once-equisitely elegant blue vest was also presently so wrinkled and dirty, it appeared to be weathered brown. The trim black breeches he had come to love more than life itself were fortunately still good. The boots he wore were scuffed and caked with London muck, however, they were still a chip above the rest. He felt overall, modestly kempt.

But his mood was more foul than the fart that just resounded from the first mate's butt on the brig.

Darcy had once again found a way to keep him locked and tethered to her every whim and demand. In all his years of being a highway man, he had never once considered himself a duped fool...until she had come along. Miss Debooba was a duplicitous, deplorable, disastrous, dunderheaded dingleberry of the highest degree.

He grumbled curses about her beneath his breath as he swaggered over to the big box on the deck that had some stairs in it, leading downward to the lower deck. He needed a hammock for the night. AND NOW. Meeting people and making new friends could wait. Tonight was all about him and his beauty sleep. By jove, he would damn well get it.

Making his way down, the ship swayed gently, creaking and moaning within the ocean waters. Hammocks lined the lower deck with barrels, full of ale, propped against the walls for safekeeping. A couple sailors were sitting on barrels playing a round of Go-Fish while drinking from giant wooden tankards.

Jack flipped his blonde ponytail off his shoulder as he eyed the hammocks in the far back shadowed alcove of the wide room. Lifting a finger to straighten his weathered cravat, he surreptitiously glanced back over his shoulder at the other men playing their game before walking towards one and claiming it. Settling into the hammock, he emitted an exhausted sigh before throwing one arm over his eyes and crossing his booted ankles.

"Oi, you girly man!" One of the sailors shouted at him. Jack scowled, crossing his arms and rolling over to his other side, putting his back to the drunken lot of them.

"Aye ye avast yonder thar!" Another pirate growled, the shuffling of his boots standing up from one of the barrels. Jack waited with a glare, studying the ship's siding. A scuffle of boots neared him before the same pirate growled right next to his ear, "That be my bed you're a'stinken up, lassie."

"Bar rar rar!" A small, cute pirate barked from atop a nearby barrel. With a heavy sigh of exasperation, Jack rolled off the hammock. Turning to face the big-boned, angry pirate standing in front of the others, he sized him up from head to toe.

"You're not that big." He drawled, casting his nose up at him with disdain, "I could be unfair and fight you over this sleeping accommodation, forcing you to lose face in front of all your ride-or-dies when I render you unconscious," narrowing his eyes, he leaned in to say in a quieter voice, "or we could settle this like gentlemen over a game of Go Fish."

The burly pirate glared down at him with angry, confused eyes for a moment before turning and glancing at the other pirates in questioning. They shrugged, nodding their heads.

"Yeah, that's not a bad idea." One of them commented from the back.

The big pirate turned back around to face Jack as he replied, "Aye-Aye, matey. Ye have yourself a deal." Lifting a meaty hand, he grabbed hold of Jack's cravat and yanked him forward.

Minutes later, he was sitting upon a barrel, himself, cards in hand as he surveyed the stinky men around him with nothing short of contempt. An idea suddenly occurred to him as he watched the cute, tiny pirate snaggle a copper shilling in between his gold teeth. A slow-rising grin hid behind his impassive face as he placed his cards face-down and remarked, "I say we should up the stakes a little more," turning his gaze to each man present, he continued, "or are you too afraid of losing to a nobleman?"

"Psh, you ain't no bleedin' nobleman! You're no different than any of us!" One of the pirates chortled, smacking his knee. Jack sniffed indelicately, lifting a hand to reach inside his vest pocket, extracting three gold crowns. Every pair of weathered sea man eyes stared down at the gleaming gold in awe. None of them needed to know he had pickpocketed the wealth from their own captain's coats as he was showing them down to Darcy's cabin earlier.

"That's Lord Frederick Grey to you filthy lot, and I have plenty more where that came from." His fist closed over the gold crowns, tucking them back away, "Now then, what say you? Are we gambling men or are we pussies?"

"I'M NOT A PUSSY!" The burly pirate shouted, slamming his fist onto the barrel top in front of him.

"Then throw down your gold and let us begin a real game." Jack snapped back.