I stood on the docks, staring at the yacht that I was about to board.
I still couldn't believe that Arthur had booked us a passage on the most expensive international sea voyage.
Part of my surprise stemmed from the fact that, two days ago, we had gotten into a pretty bad fight.
I suppose it was mainly my fault. We had been out with a couple of his old friends, Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert. They told hundreds of stories about their pirate and privateering days, which really interested me. They kept hinting that Arthur used to be quiet the scoundrel in his days, but he refused to tell any stories. I didn't know anything about Arthur's past, so I tried to pry it out of him, but that just made him angry. Which made me angry and prompted me to say some mean things… like "You're nothing more than a pansy" and "you're probably embarrassed because the Bad Touch Trio were better than you". I left in a rage and the door slammed behind me.
I didn't think that we were even speaking when I got the Yacht invitation at my office. I was surprised… and very flattered. Arthur may have been a horrible pirate, but he was so romantic.
I tried to call him to thank him and apologize, but I kept getting his answering machine. I was beginning to wonder what was going on.
Anyway, I boarded the ship, showing the crew my passport and my ticket. One of the sailors led me to the deck where our room was located. He informed me that it was one of the most expensive suits on the ship. Arthur had really out done himself.
He pointed the room door out to me and gave me a room key. I thanked him and he walked off.
I went up to the door and noticed there was a sticky note on the door.
Take a shower, freshen up, and then put on the clothes that are waiting for you in the bathroom.
I recognized Arthur's hand writing and started to wonder what romantic dinner he had planned for us.
I opened the door and was awed by the room. Satin bed sheets the color of whine. A beautiful view of the ocean. Candles lit everywhere.
'I really need to be more appreciative of him.'
I went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I did everything from shampooing to shaving. I even styled my hair, which I only do on really special occasions.
Finally, it was time for the clothes, which were hanging up with a black bag over them.
I unzipped the bag…
And found a red dress with poofy, off the shoulder sleeves and petticoats, a black, lace up bodice, and knee high brown boots. My eyebrow arched at the bazaar costume. Was it a masquerade ball?
I just shrugged and continued to dress.
I checked myself in the mirror before stepping out of the bathroom.
"You sure know how to keep a gentleman waiting, love."
My ears perked at the voice and I noticed that one of the chairs in the room had been turned so that the back was to me.
"Arthur?"
"That's Captain Kirkland to you, wench."
Captain? Wench?
Suddenly, he stood and turned to me.
Black trousers were tucked into his black leather boots. A gold silk sash was wrapped around his waist and held a saber and a pistol in place. His white, puffy-sleeved shirt was opened all the way, showing off his incredibly formed chest. An old, ripped, red, British navel jacket with gold embellishments was draped over his shoulders. A gold medallion hung from his neck and a black, tri-corner hat with a white feather rested upon his blonde head.
