Veiled in Stars and Silver: A Peter Pan Fairy Tale Romance

Chapter 13

The three women led me to a room. A large bed filled most of the space with plush covers and huge fluffy pillows. The carpet was thick and soft. A rack of frilly, scandalous dresses lingered in a corner. One woman gripped my arm, startling me.

“He likes to be called Jas.”

“Excuse me?”

A smile slid up the woman’s face. She was beautiful, in her mid-twenties, the oldest out of the three women. “In the bedroom.”

My mouth dropped open, with no idea how to respond. Part of me wanted to giggle like a schoolgirl, and still another part made me wonder what Hook would do if I called him that.

Eloise snorted, folding her arms, eyes narrowing. “Don’t encourage her, Ivy. Besides, she is most certainly not his type.”

Ivy cast her an annoyed glance. “How do you know what his type is? Last I checked, you were betrothed to his first mate.”

My eyes widened. “You’re engaged to Smee?”

“Yes,” Eloise snapped. “Is that a problem?” Turning to Ivy, she added, “Last night, every single creature in Neverland was commanded to hunt down and kill James. But not Wendy. We were to keep her alive and bring her to Pan.”

I felt my stomach clench. “Those were your orders?”

“They were.” Eloise’s lip curled. “All our lives are in James’s hands. He doesn’t have time for…”—her gaze roved over me—”distractions.”

Ivy appeared disturbed by this. “What do you think, Camille?”

Camille peered nervously at the two women. She was young, probably slightly younger than my twenty years. “I trust James.”

Eloise rolled her eyes while Ivy nodded in satisfaction.

“As well you should,” Ivy said. “We should all trust him. Now, Camille, fetch water for a bath. Eloise, you can help Miss Darling out of her clothes, and I shall find something for her to wear.”

Now Eloise looked really put out.

“I can change myself,” I said. “In fact, if you bring some water, I believe I can manage on my own.”

Ivy appeared aghast. “Oh no. Cora does so much for us, we want to repay her. We’ll do as she says.”

So I had to let the women, mostly Ivy, wait on me. Camille returned with the water and dumped it into the large tub that sat next to the bed.

As I peeled off my clothes, I heard several gasps as my back was exposed, revealing the whipping scars marking my skin.

“You poor thing,” Ivy lamented.

“It”s nothing,” I said quickly.

I stepped away, climbing into the bath. Ivy said nothing more, only gave me a pitying glance as I sank into the water. The grime caked on me from the past day and a half loosened, and I tried to ignore the other women’s chatter in the background as I washed. I kept a knife with me in the bath, just to be safe. Was I really a distraction for Hook? I supposed I was forcing him to save my brothers before I allowed him to save Neverland. But I had no choice. I needed to find John and Michael, and without Hook, or someone helping me, I’d never locate them.

The water was unexpectedly warm, and when I finished, I was relieved to see a towel sitting next to the basin. I grabbed it and pulled it around me before facing the other women.

Ivy smiled and motioned toward the bed. On the covers lay a frilled dress that appeared to be missing some fabric.

“This gown isn’t finished,” I said.

At that, the three women laughed. Ivy ran a hand over the soft lace. “I assure you. It is quite whole.”

“But.” I tried to think of an excuse. “My knives. There’s no room for them.”

“Oh, there is always room for knives.” Ivy gave me a sly look. “If you know where to place them.”

She helped me fit into the dress, then walked me in front of the mirror. It was tight through the bodice and showed off my shoulders. The gown bloomed in soft pinks and rouge hand-sewn flowers and lace. The netted material lined the seams of my gown where the tops of my breasts crested in an all-too-revealing fashion. Eloise glowered at me, but Ivy and Camille looked excited.

“You look lovely,” Camille said.

I stared, hardly recognizing myself. But then frowned as I saw the scars on my back peeking up out of the dress.

Ivy noticed and said, “Don’t worry about that. We will cover it up with makeup. Nobody will be the wiser. Now, Let’s do your hair.” She raised an eyebrow. “And then I’ll show you where to put those knives.”

I walked down the hallway in my new outfit. The fabric was soft against my skin, and my skirts whispered when I moved. I should have asked the women for a more practical dress, but Ivy had been so excited that I hadn”t wanted to be rude. Still, I felt rather pretty, despite the inappropriate amount of skin I was showing off at the moment.

Uncle Reuben would whip me something fierce if he saw me.

Hook stood in the entryway with Cora Pearl. He turned to us when we approached, also cleaned up. His black hair fell across his forehead, and he wore a fine shirt and overcoat, looking like the captain he was. “Greetings, ladies,” he said with a smile. “What have you done with Wendy?”

Ivy giggled and grabbed my arm, pulling me forward.

Hook blinked, his mouth falling open. His gaze took me in.

“Not a word,” I growled. For some reason, a compliment from him would feel almost as bad as him teasing me.

His jaw snapped shut, but I could tell that he was failing to hold in his comment. “Are you always against men complimenting women on their beauty?”

“Only when said flattery is from pirates,” I shot back. “Did you find out who gave Madame Pearl the book?”

He nodded to the other women. “Thank you, ladies, you have worked wonders.”

I frowned, unsure how to take that. Ivy and the others left us, moving away down the hall. Hook turned to face me.

“Alas, that query was a dead end.”

“So now what?”

“We find your brothers. I am attempting to recreate the spell I used to track them. I made a quick trip to the apothecary while you were… changing... and brought back the supplies. However, we are lacking one essential ingredient. A saltwater plant called pickleweed.”

“Then let”s get it.” I moved toward the door.

“I’m afraid we can’t. This time of day, Pan and his boys are known to be at Mermaid Cove. The only place where pickleweed resides. The best time to retrieve such a thing would be in the early morning. I’m afraid we are going to have to wait ‘til tomorrow.”

I let out an impatient sigh. “And what are we to do until then?”

He lifted an eyebrow and shrugged. “Whatever you want, love.”

A banging on the front door caused us both to jump. “Come on, Hook! Open up! We know yer in there!”

“Yeah,” shouted another voice. “We’ve got a bone to pick with ye!”

Fear raced through me. “They’ve been taken over.” I searched for an exit.

“Maybe.” Hook’s eyes were narrow as he glared at the door, his hand on his saber. “Maybe not. One of Madame Pearl’s ladies may have told them we were here.”

Cora touched his shoulder. “I’ll get it, mon cher.” She bustled to the door and cracked it open. “Sorry, boys, but we are closed—”

The door suddenly burst wide, throwing Cora against the wall.

“Excuse us, Madame, but we have some important things to discuss,” growled a big burly man. Other pirates spilled into the front entryway. They formed a half circle around us.

I went for my knives, but Hook pressed the flat of his hook to my hand. “Hold, lass,” he mumbled. He looked at the large burly man who stood at their head. “What is the meaning of this, Mason?”

“So it”s true. Captain Hook, the one man who may be our salvation, has taken up with Peter’s pet.”

A round of shouting commenced.

“Everyone knows you’ve split the stone and given half to her,” said a scrawnier man standing behind Mason. “What makes her so worthy? What does she care about any of us?”

“She ain’t fit, sir. Look at her. She’ll have that stone taken away in an instant, turn on you, and the rest of us are doomed,” said yet another.

“You don’t think I know what I’m doing?” Hook’s voice was low, a threat in his words.

The pirates standing around didn’t respond, but I saw the distrust in their gazes, all echoing the same thing.

Hook released his grip on his sword, his stance relaxing. “Fair enough. Wendy Darling here is unproven. Shall we put her to the test?”

I cast disbelieving eyes on Hook. What was he doing?

But the men roared their approval.

“A duel,” someone shouted. “To the death.”

Hook held up his palm. “Come now, lads. Let”s not prove ourselves the barbarians that Pan forces us to be. It is bad form. Skill can be proven without egregious bloodshed.”

“Then, in honor of our captain, let it be the first to lose a hand,” Mason said. He lifted his arms high, his brawny muscles bulging through his shirt. “I put myself up as her challenger.”

Hook nodded as if he were agreeing that the sky was blue.

“As the challenged, I get to choose weapons,” I said. Anger roiled in my blood. The captain of the Jolly Roger was throwing me to the wolves.

Mason’s lips pulled into a sneer. “Then choose, little girl.”

The men standing in Cora’s front entry way hooted. Eye patches and peg legs and loose shirts donned those present. The surrounding air reeked of ale.

I stepped up to Hook, my gaze meeting his. My fingers closed around the icy steel hilt attached to the saber at his waist, and drew his blade.

Something unreadable flashed across his stony face.

“I choose the sword and whatever weapons carried on our person,” I said.

Mason’s mouth twisted. “Deal.”

Cora barged between two men with a livid expression. Relief stole through me. Another woman. Surely, she would be the voice of reason.

“You shall not get blood on my carpet. Take your endeavors outside,” Cora Pearl demanded.

My last hope that sanity might prevail shriveled.

The men cheered, and they filtered out of the entryway. They organized themselves into a large circle in front of Madame Pearl’s. Mason already waited in the middle, sword drawn, ready for violence.

Despite my well-hidden knives, I now regretted the dress. But I’d have to make do because nobody seemed to care that I was ill-clothed for such a fight.

“One moment, please,” I said to Mason. I turned to the crowd. “Does anyone have a rope?”

Someone threw me a short length of a frayed line. “Thank you.”

“Won’t help you none, lass. Come, give me the stone and we will call it off.” Mason’s dark eyes fell to where the silver half-stone rested in plain view on my chest.

I glared at him. Then used Hook’s sword to tear a hole through the fabric along the hem of my dress. I strung the rope through the opening, and then wrapped it around my waist, tying up my skirts. The last thing I wanted was to trip over them.

A few men whistled and hollered at the sight of my exposed legs, but I focused on the cocky bloodlust in Mason’s expression.

I’d use that overconfidence to bring him down.

Gripping the sword, I got into a battle-ready stance. Mason guffawed.

“Look at her, holding that sword all threatening-like.”

The pirates laughed. Hook crossed his arms, never taking his steady gaze off of me.

“I’ll make this quick,” Mason said and charged at me. I danced around his attack. Mason swung his blade, and I raised mine to block.

Clang.

The strike went straight to my bones. Shit. He was strong.

He swung again, and I backed up, taking the hit. Mason laughed with triumph. When our swords struck again, I let the blade fly from my grasp.

“How about you lie down for me, and we’ll get this whole hand-chopping part over with?”

I reached into my dress and dove under Mason’s blade, bringing out my knife and striking, cutting deep into his sword arm, severing muscle and tendons. I came up on the other side, my weapon dripping with blood.

Mason swore as he clutched his useless sword arm.

He switched hands and rushed wildly at me, enraged. I circled around him, then jumped on his back, ramming my blade into his good arm before jumping off him. The force caused him to hit the ground.

I yanked the rope from my waist and jerked his injured arm behind him, tying it to his calf, then backed up.

There. Half hog-tied in a manner of seconds.

He lay there spitting, calling me every foul name known to pirate. I gripped my skirt and tore some fabric from it and stuffed it in his mouth. The crowd clambered with laughter.

“Nobody will lose their hand today. However, if you don’t get that arm tended to, you may lose one within the next week.” I straightened, sweeping strands of hair out of my face that had come loose from Ivy’s updo, and looked around at the pirates, who watched me with a new level of respect in their eyes. “Does anyone else wish to duel?” I asked in a quiet voice.

Silence.

“Then hear me. I am not your enemy. I’m aware that it will cost you to trust in me. To allow me freedom while so many of you are bound. But I will do everything I can to help Hook free this land from Peter Pan.” My heart burned with the words even while I wasn”t sure how true any part of them were. But I wanted them to be true. Could I do both? Save my brothers and free Neverland?

The men gathered around didn’t cheer me, but they didn’t challenge me either. They gradually dispersed.

I turned to Hook, only to see him attempting to hide a smile. Pride shone in his eyes. I glared at him and walked up to the porch that surrounded the length of Madame Pearl’s. I moved around the building until I was out of sight, leaning against the siding and taking deep breaths. The bloody knife I still held clanked to the wooden planks beneath my feet.

Hook clomped up after me, his sword clutched in his hand. “Wendy, that was—”

“How dare you put me in that position,” I spat.

He stopped. “Position?”

“Forcing me to fight. To prove myself.”

His eyes slitted, and he stepped close. “You were already in that position. I merely manipulated it to your advantage.”

“Did you?” My gaze fell to his shirt, only partially buttoned to show off his tattooed chest. He came closer, the smell of the sea mixed with that sweetness washing over me.

“Yes,” he said. “No offense, love, but you are a woman. And a young one at that. Not to mention your known associations with Pan. If you didn’t prove you could hold your own now, we very well might have been dealing with a mutiny later.”

My hands clenched at my sides as I stared into his face. The tiny, hooped ring in his left ear reflected the daylight. The breeze ruffled his dark hair. My heart raced as I traced that tiny scar along his strong jaw, the one spot of skin among the light stubble peppering his chin, giving him that roguish air.

My examination stopped abruptly at his lips. His firm disapproving lips.

I flattened my bloodied palms to the cool stone of the building to ground myself. “You don”t think I understand all that?”

“Then why are you angry with me?”

I gritted my teeth. Because I had wanted to see some moment of concern. Some sign that he was really on my side.

“I don”t know,” I said. “Although their actions aren”t making me believe that they deserve to be saved.”

His blue eyes became as dark as a winter storm. “Don”t you dare judge these men for their desperation.” He pressed his face close, contorted in dark rage. “You have no idea what it”s like to have your actions not be your own. To kill your friend in cold blood and to wake up later with full knowledge of what you have done. Of what atrocities he made you do.”

His fury seemed to envelop me, and my hackles rose. I wanted to run. I wanted to stay. My teeth sank into my lip, and he watched the movement, some tumultuous emotion swirling in his eyes. The harsh fabric of his overcoat brushed up against my stomach and chest. He stood so damn close, and the way he was looking at me made it difficult to breathe. A horrifying thought entered my head.

I wanted the captain of the Jolly Roger to kiss me. Again.

The storm in his eyes froze into icy hardness. “This is our one chance.” He stepped to the side, turning away from me, his form stiff. “There is no going back.”