Charlotte sank down into her chair a little more and brought the pint up to her face to conceal her identity. Her cutting blue eyes followed the man from the door to the bar. His sword hung keenly from his hips, his boots were of worn black leather but were still in great condition. He wore a long, red wool coat with polished gold buttons and his dark wavy hair was pulled back from his face. This man had to be a good 6'3", 6'4". Even though he was in his early 40's, he had the look of a flirty school boy with a mischievous sparkle in his brown eyes. Charlotte grimaced unhappily. He wasn't as grotesque as she thought he would be.
"Ah, Captain Rouge!" The saloon keeper beamed a happy, toothless smile. "Fancy you being here! What's yer poison?"
Captain Rouge slapped his gloved hand into the bar keepers hand and shook heartily. "Jack, rounds of your finest ale for everyone!" He tossed a handful of gold coins onto the bar top.
The saloon burst into cheer.
The nerve of that man, she fumed. How could he just waltz in here, and buy a round like that? Did he think that everyone loved the great Jean Rouge, other wise known as Pirate Red John? Charlotte kept her position, peering over her beer, watching the captain. Her eyes full of hatred.
A new pint of dark ale was placed on the table in front of Charlotte by a bar wench. Head from the beer spilled over onto the rough table top. "There ya are lassie! Complements of Capt'n Rouge!"
Charlotte glanced at the rough looking woman. "Merci," she choked, focusing her attention back to Jean Rouge.
The wench stared down on Charlotte for a moment. "If ye don't mind me sayin' so, a bar is no place for a pretty little lass, such as yerself."
Charlotte glared at the woman. The last thing Charlotte needed was some bar wench giving her motherly advice. If there was one thing Charlotte could do it was take care of herself. Despite being 5'4", she was quite handy with a blade and knife. Rough and despicable company did not phase her one bit. "I do mind you saying so. Piss off." Charlotte said dryly.
The wench looked surprised. She tongued her one front tooth, "well I never," and walked away.
A younger man walked through the saloon doors and made his way over to Charlotte's table. "Captain LeDoux," he said with a strong french accent, "Charlotte, I hear that Red John is here in St. Lucia!" The man sat down next to Charlotte.
"I know, Martin," Charlotte pointed at Captain Rouge.
Martin followed Charlotte's finger and his eyes grew wide. "Oh."
"He's been here for a little while...bought a round of drinks for everyone."
"Damn, et I messed it!" Martin shook his head. Martin Bourge was Charlotte's first mate.
She shot him a dirty look.
He noticed and smiled. "What? The least I could do iz get a drink off of that bastard!" Martin was also Charlotte's most trusted friend. "You need to have more fun, Charlotte."
Charlotte scowled her pretty face. "I'll have fun when Rouge is dead." She pushed Martin the pint the wench had just brought her.
He grabbed the mug and slammed the beer in less than 30 seconds. Froth clung to his lip and scragly facial hair, which he liked to refer to a mustache.
"Thirsty?" Charlotte grinned but her eyes never left Rouge.
As if he could feel her eyes piercing his body, Jean Rouge looked towards Charlotte.
Her heart skipped a beat.