Pirate Chronicles
Pirates could be waiting for her and it had been a trap all along. Maybe they were just waiting until she barricaded herself in and were about to burn her alive. If they wanted her, no doubt Nicholas was in trouble as well. No, she couldn’t think such thoughts. With the room empty, only thing left to do was hide.
When Madeleine took the first step, she winced as her slippers padded upon the rough stone surface. It was far too quiet. She stopped a couple of times, slowing down her breathing enough to hear something, but nothing was ever there.
Madeleine ducked into the pantry and wedged herself in between the shelves. For the first time in her life, she was thankful for her rail-like frame that fit perfectly in the narrow divide. All she had to do was wait and someone would come for her. She was Governor Valmont’s daughter after all.
The kitchen was empty, except a couple of mice near the stove scurrying around in the semi-darkness. Earnestly, she listened for the sound of footsteps, the familiar click of her father’s gold buckled shoes striding confidently towards her. Perhaps even the thudding of her brother’s shiny military boots.
Why were they not coming? Then a horrible thought struck her. What if they were dead? She looked down and saw her pale blue silk dress, picked out because it matched her eyes, ripped in long, lovely pieces. Everything Madeleine held back earlier as she rushed through the mansion, trying to calm down the servants, hit her like a bird slamming into the window.
Even though she had found the only safe place to hide, everything suddenly became far too heavy to hold back anymore. Trying not to cry out, Madeleine covered her mouth as tears slipped through her fingers. She couldn’t breathe, no matter how much air she inhaled. Her fears poured into a gaping maelstrom of pain and neglect. For a long time she just let go and wept.
Almost like a floating specter, she saw herself lazing on the stone balcony, gazing dreamily up at the moon. How long had the pirates been there? The whole time she had been sitting there, mooning about like a lovesick goose thinking of romance and adventure. She knew she was just giving into self-pity and it felt jolly good, but it wouldn’t help her. Praying that the kitchen servants had escaped safely, Madeleine had a morbid curiosity to see a dead body.
Somehow, whenever she had seen people die in plays or read about it in books, it always seemed so peaceful like slipping into a deep sleep. Closing her eyes, Madeleine tilted her head back against the wall. Anyone who walked into the pantry would think she was dead. Making the decision to stay like that in case any of the pirates returned, a sudden thought popped into her head. What if whoever found her checked to see if she was actually dead? In her current position, she would be without a weapon to defend herself if they decided to do so.
A sword or pistol would definitely scare anyone off. In her mind, she imagined herself pointing her father’s pistol at a filthy man who then knelt before her, begging for her mercy. Yes, that would do. How she was going to fire it was beyond her, but having one would undeniably make her feel a lot better.
Madeleine moved around the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets and drawer and rummaging around. Even though she found a vast amount of plates, bowls, glasses, and oddly enough, a hand mirror, there seemed to be a lack of pistols. In the end, it made sense.
Who in their right mind would hide a gun in a kitchen for slaves to find? Her father usually kept his in the study, which wasn’t an option. She was far safer outside the house than inside.
Her next weapon, she decided, was a knife and the biggest one she could find. However as she continued her search, the sound of footsteps outside made her stop. Someone, or by the sound of it, several someones, were coming very close to the door.
Grabbing the closest thing she considered deadly, Madeleine crept back into the pantry. There was hardly had enough time to take a deep lungful of air before the door was pushed open. Boots stomped in as the door creaked, the sound of metal clanking thundered like an oncoming hurricane.
With a trembling hand, Madeleine held tightly to her necklace. Under her breath, she whispered the Lord’s prayer.
“Look around,†a deep male voice commanded.
Feet began to move. Bright, flickering light flooded the dingy kitchen. The men had brought a torch with them and to her horror, Madeleine realized a set of those feet were actually coming close to her position. The time to act had been thrust upon her and now it was there, she wasn’t sure she could kill a man. Grasping her weapon more firmly, she prayed for God to give her the strength to follow through with her plan.
