Chapter 30 - Return

It was several days before the Voyager and the Surprise, with the vanquished Freedom in tow, returned triumphant to the docks of Kingston Town. Those days had seen a flurry of activity, mostly surrounding the ladies, who had only recently been rescued from their terrible ordeal. They had survived, though not without some hardships, and the joy was palpable when the two women, battered and shaken, were reunited with their husbands once more.

For Charlotte Pullings, it was like being in heaven. She had launched herself into her husband's arms, enveloping herself in his warm embrace as she had done so many times before. Tom, for his part, was overwhelmed, spinning his princess in the air in wonder before setting her down carefully, a worried furrow in his brow.

"Oops, I forgot about the little one," he said quietly, gently resting a caring hand on his wife's now extended belly.

Charlotte paused for a moment, before breaking into a fit of laughter. "Oh, my darling Tom," she cried, reaching her hands around his neck to bring his face close to hers. "My darling, how I missed you." And with that, she pressed her lips against his without another word.

Madeleine Mowett was forced to take her own greeting with her beloved William a little more gently. When Charlotte had left her side, sprinting to Tom and his loving embrace, Maddie had paused, trying to hold herself straight and proud as her Will, almost in slow motion, approached her across the battered decks of the Freedom. Their eyes locked; they said nothing. He simply took her hands, and gently pressed them to his lips as he drank in her beauty like a goblet of rich red wine.

"Maddie," he whispered, before the lady lifted a finger to his lips to silence him.

"No words, love," she whispered back. "No words to ruin this moment." The tears were welling in her eyes, and as he gazed upon her, he could not help but reach out and take her into an all-enfolding embrace.

The lady's response was nothing at all as he had expected. Mrs Mowett let out a sudden short cry, involuntarily retreating from Will's touch against her back.

"Madeleine, what is it?" he asked, clearly not anticipating such a negative response to his affections. As he spoke, he gently slid his hands over her shoulders and quickly found the source of her pain. Turning her gently, he pulled back the loose folds of fabric on her bodice to reveal the slowly healing wounds from her horrendous whipping days before.

His repulsion at the sight was overwhelming. "My God, Maddie…" he began, unable to voice his anger or concern in words that fitted his outrage.

"It's alright, Will," she offered weakly, though the response was far from convincing. "The wounds will heal, now that you are here," she added, lifting her hand to his cheek fondly.

From that moment on, the ladies had become the centre of attention for their beloved captains. All the while, the health and wellbeing of those brave Naval crew who had been wounded in the attack on the Freedom were being championed by doctors Maturin and Mendoza, both more than capable between them of administering the required medicine and assistance, while Madeleine was placed in the capable hands of young Doctor Wheatley. Though initially William had begun to protest, citing Wheatley's apparent lack of experience, he was quickly reassured by not only Madeleine, but by Maturin himself, that Voyager's young doctor was more than capable of addressing Maddie's injuries. Wheatley, for his part, stepped up to the task, not only treating Madeleine's scarred back with care and skill, but also alleviating the pain of the other injuries she had sustained on the Freedom's gun deck. Although at times she appeared weak and frail, Mrs Mowett was rapidly regaining her strength, and had decided early not to let her husband know the true extent of the Hell she had experienced under Cartright's command. At least not yet.

To take away the pain, and the memories, and the fact that she longed to be intimate with her darling William once more, she busied herself every day with the care and attention of young Emma, the child orphaned and now left abandoned in her arms. She would feed the baby, hold her, and offer her every ounce of love and affection she could give, and in doing so the action seemed to assist in the lady's recovery. As the days progressed, the colour in Maddie's cheeks returned, and she could be seen pacing the decks of Voyager, the child in her arms, softly singing the same lullabies her mother had sung to her many years ago. Although Maddie knew that this joy with little Emma would no doubt be short lived, and that upon the ship's return the child's true guardians would be located, she did not relinquish the opportunity to hold her, love her, and give her warmth and affection, as if little Emma were her very own.

Will had stood by and watched her, his lips creased in a gentle smile, though in his heart he was broken by the fact that he and his beloved Maddie would never be able to share the love of a child together once little Emma had left their lives for good. To that end he took every opportunity to be part of those moments with the lady and the child, the Mowetts both giving their all to the care of this little one now in their temporary charge.

Whilst Mrs Mowett attended diligently to her recovery, albeit with some difficultly, Mrs Pullings, by total comparison, seemed to blossom like a sunflower on a warm summer's day. Her pregnancy continued to develop without any noticeable hiccups, and her manner and expression had been fair radiant since the moment she had emerged, arm in arm with her sister-in-law, on the Freedom's decks. She presented no evidence of real injury or upset, seeming to laugh and love just as she had done before the incident had changed their lives forever. But to those who knew her best, her apparent unaffected nature proved merely a cover for something much deeper. Though Charlotte herself laughed off the entire incident, calling it an "interesting experience", her dreams gave away her true feelings, and on more than one occasion on the trip back to Kingston, Tom had been forced to shake her awake from her dreams; dreams that had tortured and frightened her in a way that amazed him. She would thrash and shake and scream, fighting against an unseen foe in her mind as she drifted in and out of fitful slumber. It seemed, however, at least on the surface, that she had no real memory of these dreams, nor of the pain and suffering she herself had experienced on the Freedom in those few terrible days. She spoke nothing of her original concerns about Tom and Anna, nor about her fears for her pregnancy, or indeed for her fears for her sister-in-law, who, at one point, came so close to leaving this world that Charlotte was sure all hope was about to fall away. No. These things she put aside, effectively filing them in some hidden corner of her mind for some other day. Now was not the time; not now that they were safe, and happy, and recovering just nicely. Though when the time for talk would be, no-one seemed certain, least of all Charlotte herself, who really couldn't understand what all the fuss was about now it was all over and done with.

Maddie, for her part, had watched Mrs Pullings carefully, particularly in light of her little sister's recent heroic, yet disturbing actions on board the Freedom. It was Charlotte who had killed Anna; Charlotte who had pulled the trigger and sent the pirate captain to her death. Maddie was concerned that the action of killing another person, even one as evil as Anna Cartright, would be an horrendous burden for her little sister to bear, and had said as much to her husband and her brother-in-law upon their reunification. Though, to Maddie's surprise, Charlie had spoken nothing of it in all the time it had taken to reach the shores of Kingston, even when prompted. All she would say was that she "…found a gun, and used it." End of story. Where had the gun come from? How did she load it, if she loaded it at all? What made her leave the safety of her hiding place and risk her life to take Anna's away? These questions raced around Maddie's mind, but for the moment she was forced to be content with the bare facts that Charlie had provided, and to hope that, at some time in the not-to-distant future, Charlotte would open up and reveal the truth about her incredible actions that fateful day.

It was early evening before a carriage, carrying the Mowetts, the Pullings, Maturin, Aubrey, and little Emma, rolled gently up the pathway to Halsey Manor after its bumpy trip from Kingston Harbour. The mood in the carriage was happy, almost jovial; even Stephen seemed to be a little more animated than usual, with laughter and smiles all around.

The carriage pulled to a stop before the silent Manor doors, darkness covering the giant house like a shawl.

"That's odd," commented Tom, alighting from the carriage and offering his arm to his princess. "I thought the Admiral and Lady Halsey would be waiting for us."

Charlotte, stepping to the ground with a smile, took her husband's arm in hers.

"I am sure they are out celebrating, as much of Kingston is," she replied confidently. "Did you see all those taverns full of frivolity on our way through town? The threat is gone. Everybody is happy now, including the Halseys, I am sure."

One by one, each member of the party carefully stepped onto the path, with Mrs Mowett, Emma in her arms, the last to emerge. She held the baby gently, Emma softly cooing in approval as Maddie pressed her sweet lips against the little girl's forehead.

"I will miss her, you know," Maddie whispered to Will, who was standing beside the lady and her precious bundle.

Will smiled. "I know, love," he replied softly, feeling just as attached to the little girl as his wife had become. It would be hard, that was sure, but it had to be done. Surely the child had family in Kingston or elsewhere; they just needed to be found.

The closely-knit bundle of friends mounted the Manor staircase, approaching the doorway seemingly without a care. However, without warning, Stephen Maturin suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

Noticing immediately, Jack turned and observed his friend curiously.

"Brother, what is it?" Jack asked, alerting his two Navy companions to Maturin's unusual action.

Stephen lifted his hand slowly and pointed at the door before them.

"It's unlatched."

All eyes turned to see the massive manor door slightly ajar, with the eerie silence beyond amplified by the oppressive darkness.

Immediately taking charge, the gentlemen stepped in front of their ladies, while Aubrey drew his sword. Without a second thought, Stephen sprinted back to the carriage, removing the lantern from beside the small window, holding it before him as he returned to Jack's side.

"Could be trouble," Jack said quietly. "Let's take it easy."

Slowly, Aubrey, with Maturin by his side, pushed the door open with a soft but audible creak. The foyer beyond was dark, with only a smattering of light from the drawing room beyond filtering into the tiled entranceway. The silence was almost deafening as the Captain and the Doctor entered, with Pullings and Mowett close behind. At the rear stood Madeleine, holding Emma, with other arm tightly wrapped around a trembling Charlotte. The ladies kept their distance, but still entered with the gentlemen, keen not to remain alone in such uncertain circumstances.

It took a moment for Maturin's eyes to adjust to the dim light, but it was not long before he caught sight of a figure lying still on the tiled floor not far from the stairway. He moved immediately, almost silent across the short distance to where the body lay, faced down to the marble. Shining his torchlight towards the figure, he turned it over slowly, though it was already clear who this was.

Dinah, the Halsey's faithful Housekeeper, was long dead, a single gunshot wound to her chest the obvious culprit. Her white apron was stained with her own blood, and her face was contorted into such a horrific expression it was almost impossible to imagine the fear she felt those few moments before her death.

Now the tone of the party had changed dramatically. Breaths were short and muscles tensed as Mowett and Pullings quickly moved to their ladies' sides.

"Stay close", whispered Tom to Charlie as he stepped in beside her. He immediately noticed her trembling had increased, and even in this dim light she seemed as pale as death herself.

Taking charge, Stephen slowly stood from his place at Dinah's side.

"We need to see what else has happened here," he breathed to Aubrey, indicating towards the drawing room with his sharp eyes. "That's the only light source. Something must be in there, or has been. We should investigate."

"Agreed," whispered Jack, sticking like glue to his best friend's side. The two began to approach the drawing room door, now with the two couples close behind, though Tom and Will hovered over their women like bees over honey, ever watchful and protecting.

The drawing room door was open wide enough to allow the party to see inside, and it was Jack who first saw the second body lying on the soft rug in the centre of the room.

An audible breath of "no" came from his lips as he, with Maturin in pursuit, swept into the room and straight to the body in question.

Admiral Halsey never had a chance. A single gunshot wound to the head had taken his life, the powder burns surrounding the entry point indicating the close range at which the shot had been fired. The Admiral had clearly fallen backwards at the impact, the back of his head now a gaping hole, allowing his still warm blood to freely flow into the carpet beneath him.

As Maturin and Aubrey bent down to look closer at the Admiral's body, the two couples had followed into the room, unaware of what lay ahead of them. When they reached the point of visibility, the gasp Charlotte let out was chilling. She immediately turned away, lifting her hands to her face, eager to shield herself from the horrific scene before her.

For his part, Tom was anxious to care for his wife, but also more than a little curious about the whole affair laid out before him. Though he kept his hand on Charlie's shoulder, his eyes remained fixed on the body, unable to move his gaze as he tried with all his might to piece together what the hell had happened in this dreadful place. As he watched, he was vaguely aware that Charlotte left his side, returning to rest her weary head against the drawing room door where she hoped to get her breath back.

"Dear God," whispered Maddie to her husband, still clinging to Emma in her arms as she and Will continue to move closer to Halsey's lifeless body. "What happened here?"

The answer that came was not expected. The eerie silence of the room was sudenply broken by the light but audible sound of a pistol being cocked from behind the party. Will, the first to turn, was confronted by a sight so sickening he almost could not believe it was real: a pistol was now being held at the head of his little sister, pointing directly at her delicate brow. The pistol was in the hand of someone unseen, waiting quietly in the shadows behind the drawing room door until the opportune moment presented itself. Now, with a pistol at Charlie's head and another hand clutching her arm, the figure quietly stepped out from behind the hostage and greeted the party with a chilling smile.

"What do you think happened here?" said Sarah Halsey, her voice strong as she pressed the muzzle of the pistol hard into Charlotte's temple. "I killed him, of course. Why must people always state the obvious at a time like this?"

For a moment, nobody could speak. They stood, dumbfounded, staring at the Admiral's wife, who was so cold and calm in her admission of murder that they found it almost impossible to comprehend.

Noting their surprise, Sarah responded with light amusement. "Well, what are you all gawking at? So I killed him. He deserved it. He was a terrible husband anyway. Always expecting to be pleasured. What is it with men? You would think we were here simply for your entertainment!"

Surprisingly it was Will who gained his composure first. "Who are you," he breathed, his voice cold and unforgiving. "Why have you done this?"

Sarah laughed, a shrill, chilling laugh that, to Tom, seemed incredibly familiar. "Because it was going to happen," she replied. "He had to die. How else could I find a way to get back at murderers like you?"

This time it was Aubrey who responded, slowly moving forwards to take a place beside Mrs Mowett. "Murderers like us? I don't understand?" he asked lightly, also realising that Tom was slowly taking up a position not far from his captive wife.

Noticing their slow but steady movement towards her, Sarah also began to move, backing out of the drawing room door, still clutching Charlotte close to her with the pistol firmly at the lady's head.

"You killed her," said Sarah quietly, then she paused. "Well, more to the point YOU killed her," she said to Charlotte, pushing the pistol even harder into the lady's temple, causing Charlie to almost buckle under the pressure. "You bitch, you will die for what you have done, I swear."

"Please," breathed Charlotte, shaking violently and trying desperately to hold onto her composure. "Please, I don't…."

"You killed Anna, didn't you?" snapped Sarah, cutting off Charlie before she could answer. "You killed her, in cold blood. I know it. I have spies you know. They told me the truth, and now you must die."

Now the party was out into the foyer once again, with Sarah backing slowly into a dark corner, a terrified Charlie as her shield. The captains emerged after her, still following at a slow and steady pace, looking for any opportunity to step in and release the hostage from her ordeal. But Sarah was firm. She did not flinch as the grip on Charlotte's arm grew tighter, Lady Halsey's long, sharp nails almost drawing blood.

"You don't know who I am, do you?" she said to her hostage, almost mockingly. "You don't know what I am here for? Well, maybe your beloved husband should look a little closer into my eyes and see if he can enlighten you."

With that, she stared directly at Tom, her gaze cold and calculating. It was at that moment that Pullings realised. Though it seemed impossible, like a terrible dream, it seemed that once again he was staring into the eyes of the one woman who had broken his will and taken his dignity those many weeks before.

"Cartright." He choked out the words, though he could not have understood them if he tried. The cold, evil stare was unmistakeable. It was like looking at Anna all over again, and the memory of his ordeal on the Freedom flooded back to him like the rising of the tide.

Sarah laughed. "Well done, boy," she cooed. "You guessed right. Allow me to introduce myself. Cartright is my name, Sarah Cartright. Daughter of John and Mary Cartright, and sister of Anna Cartright. Please ignore the Halsey addition. As you can tell from that lifeless lump in the drawing room, it no longer applies!"

Once again, silence enveloped the room. No-one seemed able to respond, though once again, it was Will who lifted his voice to speak first.

"You planned this all along, didn't you?" he accused her, his gaze not leaving his little sister's terrified face.

Sarah smiled coldly. "But of course," she answered. "It was all meant to be, you see. I knew it all. I never believed my sister was dead. She was alive, I felt it in my blood, and when we met again a few years ago, it was like everything was falling into place. She told me what had happened to her, and how she had suffered. I knew it could not go unpunished. Halsey was just the catalyst. Stupid man, he was such a fool! I read him like a book, and oh it was so easy to catch him. With an Admiral as a husband, how could we go wrong? With Halsey money to support her and a will like Anna's, we were never going to fail. Retribution would be ours. At least, until YOU showed up," she added, once again gripping Charlotte's arm like a vice. "If it wasn't for you, and your pathetic husband, and that stupid brother of yours, it all would have been perfect. So now, you must die. Nothing personal, just business. You understand, I'm sure."

With that, Sarah tilted the pistol meaningfully, finally ready to take Charlotte's life with a single shot. The captains, unable to stop her, held their breath as Sarah's finger slowly pressed against the trigger…

It was Aubrey who first saw it. Something, out of the corner of his eye, hovering in a dark corner of the foyer, silently waiting. At first he thought it may have been his imagination, but as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he was sure he could see a figure in the darkness. When Sarah took her stance ready to fire the pistol at Charlotte's unprotected temple, Jack took his eyes from her for an instant, hoping, praying that that someone, or something, hiding in the corner, would act before it was too late.

He was right. As all stood waiting for the shot, they were instead stunned to see a silver candlestick being lifted silently behind Sarah's shoulder. In the darkness it came down, striking her hard, causing her to lose her concentration and her grip on the pistol as she stumbled forwards.

"Charlie!" Will cried, lunging forward, but Charlotte needed no prompting. As soon as the pistol was away from her temple, she had attempted to flee, though it was not until her brother's hand ripped Sarah's vice like grip from Charlie's arm that she was able to dash to safety. At the same time, Tom had leapt into action, grabbing Sarah's other hand in a desperate attempt to restrain her. Whilst his strength initially appeared to prevail as Will pushed Charlotte to safety, Sarah regained her composure, and landed a swift hard kick to Pullings groin, causing him to crumble to the ground in pain.

Sarah took her chance. Now unarmed, and with Aubrey about to enter the fray, she bolted, sprinting across the room towards the front door, her only means of quick escape.

"I don't think so, Miss Cartright."

Stephen Maturin, like a sentinel, stood in Sarah's way, a sword firmly gripped in his hand. He had been silent throughout the entire altercation in the drawing room, and it seemed as though he had been forgotten. However, through all the commotion he had kept his cool, and anticipated a quick escape by the villain, regardless of the outcome with Charlotte. To that end he had positioned himself between Cartright and her means of escape, knowing that it would be he who would be called upon to take up arms against her.

Sarah stared at him, his face cold and calculating, his grip on the sword tight and confident. Her eyes glanced around in desperation, looking for any means of retreat. She quickly realised that her only way out was the stairway, but this too was realised by Aubrey, who moved like a shot up the stairs to position himself in her way.

Cornered, she had nowhere to run. Again her eyes darted about the dimly lit room for a solution, and the one she found, though not her first choice, was the best she could muster. Quickly turning on her heel, she dashed to a small alcove in the foyer wall, just beside the stairway, where a small table stood. Seemingly out of nowhere, she turned back to the doctor holding her late husband's ceremonial sword, her stance now more certain as she faced Maturin with a will of iron.

"So this is how it is to be, doctor," she hissed. "So be it. You will find me a worthy adversary, I am sure."

Maturin smiled coldly. "I am sure, lady," he echoed, moving forwards to take up an en guard position before her.

It seemed like an eternity as Maturin and Cartright crossed swords in the dim light of Halsey Manor. The onlookers stood away from the fray, the captains clutching their wives protectively, Aubrey standing firm at the top of the staircase in case the lady should attempt to flee.

But she would not. She stood her ground as steel rang on steel, every parry and stroke of Maturin's met with a woman's precision and grace. She was obviously schooled in the use of a sword, though Maturin, in his methodical manner, was soon able to grasp her weaknesses and exploit them. As the two fought hard, Maturin began to advance, forcing Sarah backwards up the staircase in defence. When Aubrey moved in from behind, slowly lifting his own blade, Maturin stopped him.

"No, Jack," he breathed calmly. "Leave her. This one is mine." The matter-of-fact coldness in Stephen's voice was as chilling as a winter's night. Though never one to show his emotions, he was clearly on a mission, his face resolute, his temper calm and collected. He had no intention of letting Cartright escape without due punishment, and it showed.

Though it seemed as though a quick flicker of fear shadowed Sarah's face, it was quickly replaced by mocking. "You think you are so good, Stephen?" she breathed. "Your confidence will be your weakness." With that, she quickly lunged forward attempting to disarm the doctor with one stroke.

Stephen, however, had already anticipated her action. He quickly darted aside, his light feet stepping to his left as Sarah's sword drifted harmlessly by him. The doctor, expecting her defences to be lowered, moved quickly in response, turning his wrist and locking his sword with hers, twisting in the blink of an eye to push her hand away, and, without a single sound, sliding his sharp blade into her unprotected bodice.

He felt the metal slide through her flesh and past bone, effortlessly piercing the heart within, before he quickly and purposely drew the blade out and back to his side. At first, she did not realise what had happened, and stood silently, trying to keep her sword aloft, but it was not long before her strength left her, and the sword in her hand crashed to the tiled staircase at her feet. Slowly, almost as if in a dream, she brought her hands to her chest, feeling her own blood slowly spill from her bosom and fill her cold fingers. She looked down, unable to believe the truth, before her gaze lifted back to Stephen, who still stood before her, his eyes as cold as the early dawn. Sarah's will began to fade, and her strength finally gave way as she realised the bitter truth.

"God…" she whispered, almost inaudibly, as she collapsed sideways, her weight taking her over the banister and sending her crashing down to the foyer below. There she lay, her blood spilt, her life ended, her campaign for retribution and torment finally over.

Stephen, for his part, had watched Sarah's lifeless body drift silently to the foyer floor and land with a thud, before he methodically took out his handkerchief, wiped the lady's blood from his blade, and calmly spoke one single, yet rather unexpected word.

"Women."

Hello hello hello! Long time no see, eh? Well, I have been a busy little bee. To cut a long story short, I am now working in Hanoi, Vietnam, where I am a Primary School teacher in an international school. Life is good, though busy busy busy, so I have not been in the right frame of mind to write lately.

When it came back, I launched into it! I hated leaving this open, without any answers, and though you may need to read back a few chapters to get it, I hope all this makes sense now.

It's been so long since I wrote I don't know if anybody actually cares about this anymore, but if you do, I hope you will forgive my tardiness! I am a lazy bum sometimes!

That's the end, though there may be an epilogue still to come. I would say "stay tuned", but I am so bloody unreliable I won't. I'll just say "thanks" and I hope to be back on deck soon!

Love always,

Miss Flossy. Xxxx

PS – Reviews are always welcome!