It had been years since Peter had let himself cry. He was the brave one, he was the stoic leader of the family and he wouldn’t be weak. But before he knew it tears were spilling down his cheeks. Weak, weak, weak, was all he could think of. You’re not like you’re father. You aren’t brave.
Hearing a sound he spun around to see a concerned familiar face. He quickly began brushing away the tears, sniffling. “H-how long h-have you been standing there?”
Priscilla couldn’t help but eventually utter his name after seeing the truly vulnerable side of her friend for the first time. She jumped when he suddenly turned around and bit her lower lip, embarrassed for standing there so long.
“N-not long at all!” she lied. She didn’t mean to, she got lost in her own thoughts she supposed. She hesitantly approached him, resisting the urge to suddenly hug him. “Did something happen, Peter?? Are you hurt? Shall I call for a doctor??”
“Aye, indeed you did! Or so my Uncle says after
passing through Hertfordshire the other day!
Why, do you ask?”
“I – oh, no particular reason, only – I used to have
the acquaintance with the owner of the estate, and
he last left with a level of some urgency.”
“Acquaintance with the owner of the–”
She couldn’t believe her ears for a moment.
“I beg your pardon, you do mean the Master Bingley??“
“You seem too fine a girl to be in Tortuga.
Has your dashing young lover abandoned you?”
“Pffuhg, bloody pig.”
Dashing young, lover? More like pirates.
“..you seem to have an air yourself… what about’chu?”
And poorly trying to hide a Queen’s English accent is poor.
“Oh, but aren’t they all?”
A proud smirk spreads across her face that she doesn’t bother to hide. “An air? I’ve never considered the idea, but perhaps I do. Of course, I do sail these waters with a fine crew and a fine captain–the finest vessel on the seven seas.”
“Aye. That’s what I get for tryin’ to be proper and…
Fear was being replenished with bitterness over her rather unfortunate situation.
She quite well detested this island and was hoping for some way off. But who could she trust?
“Fine crew and captain you say? Then what brings you to dis bleedin’ island?”