Silhouetted by the Sea

Disclaimer: Standard.

Author's Notes: Misplaced.

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Silhouetted by the Sea
by Kristen Elizabeth

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The port of Savannah was the most amazing place Relena had ever seen. Unlike Southampton, the American city practically burst over with excess energy, robust life and full-bodied colors. As they drew closer to shore, she opted to join Sally on the deck to take in the sight. People, mere moving spots at first, bustled back and forth. The shouts of fishermen dockdock hands could be heard long before faces could be seen.

But the most amazing thing was the sight of land itself. After a month of nothing but a flat horizon of ocean water, Relena had to fight to keep herself from crying at prospect of walking on solid land once again.

Sally glanced at her young charge. "Relena...where is your shawl?"

"It's too warm to wear it," Relena replied, happily. "Can't you feel it? The air is so much warmer here."

"I suppose no one thought to adjust your wardrobe back in England." Sally fanned herself with her hand. "And it's going to be even hotter than this in Barbados."

Relena leaned on the railing. "Have you ever been to Barbados, Baroness?"

"Relena..." Sally pulled her collapsible bonnet up around her head to guard against the sun. "You make me feel quite old when you call me that."

The younger girl tugged up her own calash. It wouldn't do to get freckles. "I am sorry. But calling you by your first name seems so...disrespectful."

"We've been cabin mates for a month, Relena. We have no personal secrets. You may call me 'Sally' freely." She wd atd at the girl. "And to answer your question, no. I have never been to Barbados."

Relena nodded. Her attention returned to the approaching port. "How long will we have on shore?"

"Several hours. We can buy you a lighter shawl, at least. Perhaps order some cooler fabrics to be sent to Kushrenada's." Sally reached for Relena's hand. "Is there anything else you'd like to do?"

"Fruit," Relena replied. "I think we must find someit tit to eat."

"But of course." Sally's blue eyes twinkled. "From what I've heard, Georgia is famous for its peaches."

Several hours and one very nauseating rowboat ride later, Relena and Sally stepped onto American soil. Relena glanced back over her shoulder at the *Lady Anne*. What had been her entire world for a month, now looked small and insignificant. She shuddered to think that in only a few hours, she would have to re-board the ship and set sail again. Her knees wobbled suddenly.

"Watch your step, miss." A dock hand caught her before she could fall. "It takes a minute to get your land legs back."

His accent was so strange to her ears. He spoke English, but his words were different somehow. Less proper. American English, she supposed. Definitely inferior to British. "Thank you," she murmured, gratefully.

Sally took her hand. "Don't be frightened. In America, they utilize the service of African natives. Their skin is much darker than ours."

"That's not what caught me off guard," Relena said. "Aren't Americans taught proper English?"

The older woman laughed. "The Americans would have something to say about that."

As they left the dock, they walked up the busy river street, passing shops, taverns, and one disturbing human auction. Relena had read of slavery in America, but had never fully recognized it. She was fairly sure, however, that Trieze would have slaves. Could she be the mistress over another human being?

"I know it's upsetting," Sally said in a flat voice as they steered clear of the auction area. "Try not to let it bother you."

Relena lowered her eyes to the cobblestone street. "No, I'd rather it bother me, Sally. If it didn't, I don't think I'd be a very good person."

After a hearty tea during which Relena experienced the mouth-watering delight of Georgia peaches, they set out again in search of a light cotton shawl. Upon its purchase, Sally glanced upthe the sun. "We should return to the dock."

"Must we, Sally?" Relena bit her lip. "Savannah is so lovely...I could stay here forever."

"So could I, my dear." Taking Relena's arm, she gently began to steer the girl back to the docks. "But I believe your brother would have my head if I didn't see you to Barbados."

Relena smoothed down a bow on her dresses stomacher. "Of course. And when Millardo orders, we comply, after all."

"Relena..."

The younger girl gathered her skirts to keep them off the dirty street. "I need to mail a letter to Lucrezia before we leave."

Sally sighed. "I think I saw mailing place on our way in." As she began to walk, Relena followed, struggling to keep her shawl around her shoulders and skirts lifted. In doing so, she failed to keep her eyes looking forward and consequently, she soon bumped into something warm and solid.

"Excuse me!" she exclaimed, drawing back. Her gaze lifted and was caught by a pair of eyes more blue than the waters of the ocean she had crossed. They were framed by thick, unruly bangs of dark chocolate. She blinked rapidly, positive that her cheeks must be on fire.

When she could tear away from the power of his eyes, Relena looked the man up and down. He was wearing riding breeches of worn, tired leather, several years behind in style. The stockings that started just below his knee were streaked with dirt and ended in two scuffed, buckled shoes. His shirt, however, was fairly clean. It did not reach up to his neck or end in a cravat like the attire of the courtly gentlemen she was used to seeing. Rather, a patch of his throat and a bit of his chest were exposed to her innocent gaze.

Relena swallowed. He was, without a doubt, the most handsome man she had ever seen. "I.ver.very sorry, sir."

The stranger with ocean-colored eyes grunted. "You should watch where you're going."

Although breathless a moment earlier, his words sparked Relena's temper. The man had not even given her the proper amount of respect by using the title "miss" *and* he was going to blame her for the entire incident? "*I* should watch where I'm going, sir? And what will you be doing...bumping into other careless maidens?"

"Relena," Sally began, nervously. "Remember your tongue."

"I hardly ever forget it," Relena tossed back.

The man's scowl grew deeper and his eyes, darker. "You'd do well to listen to your guardian."

Relena propped her hands up on the hips of her Robe a l'Anglaise. "And you would do well to show respect to a lady!"

He leaned towards her, surrounding her with the scent of tobacco, sandalwood anesh,esh, sea air. Her heart beat a bit faster. "When I see a lady worthy of my respect," he whispered in a low, resonating tone. "...I'll show it."

Relena's eyes flew open, outraged, but before she could even think up a retort, the strange man had disappeared into the crowd. The memory of his eyes, however, lingered. She looked at Sally. "Can you believe the nerve of that...that..."

"American?" Sally supplied. "You must realize, my dear, you are not in England. Americans still harbor many grudges against the King and his people. You may find that they don't always acknowledge the proper titles and deferences that you have come to expect." She pursed her lips. "But as for you...you should not provoke a verbal argument with a man of no consequence like that. It is very un-ladylike. What would your brother say?"

Relena turned her nose upe pre probably would have had the man arrested."

Sally shook her head, unsure if she should be amused or annoyed as Relena flounced down the cobblestone street, in search of a place to mail her letter.

****

Hilde could tell that Heero arrived back at their rented rooms with something on his mind. He stormed in, slammed the door behind himself and paced for a minute.

She set aside the musket she had been cleaning and stood up. "How'd it go? Did you find out when 're 're sailing?"

"Next tide," he replied, tersley. "One hour."

Hilde frowned. "Then why do you look like you want to shoot something?"

"It's nothing."

She continued to press. "Come on...tell me, Heero!"

He looked into the open, honest cornflower blue eyes of the girl he had practically raised, although he was only two years older. It was impossible to deny Hilde anything. "I just ran into a particularly tight-assed English duchess on the street," Heero finally said, using the title in the most sarcastic manner possible.

"Pretty?" Hilde asked.

Heero blinked. "What?"

"Was she pretty? English ladies always have such beautiful dresses...." She looked down at her own boyish breeches and shirt, intended to hide her blossoming femininity. After a moment, she snapped to attention. "Not that I'd want to wear them or anything. All those skirts....they'd just be a pain in the..."

"Hey...mind your language," Heero admonished. "A lady never curses."

Hilde wrinkled her nose. "I'm not a lady."

Their leader cupped her chin in his calloused hand. "You're more of a lady than any of those English women who claim to be." He gave her a brotherly pat on the cheek. "Now...where do we stand on weapons?"

She returned his gesture of affection with a pure smile before answering his question. "We have plenty of arms. Trowa's out securing ammunition. Wufei is checking on the ship."

Heero nodded. "We'll sail on the same tide as the *Lady Anne*." Even as he planned, Hilde's first question was still stuck in his mind. Pretty. The English woman had been more than pretty. He snorted. Snobbish and uptight. But still...he couldn't deny...beautiful.
wa'swa's return interrupted the memory of the faint shock on her delicate features and the smell of rosewater that had surrounded the little piece of work. "The ammunition is secure on the ship, Heero. Along with all the supplies," the taller man informed them.

"Good." Heero picked up the musket Hilde had been cleaning. The girl was just a memory. One better off forgotten. "Then let's go."

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Leaving Savannah was almost as hard as leaving England. To have been given only a scant few hours of reprieve before being tossed back onto the sea was almost too much for Relena to bear. She declined to stay on deck with Sally. Instead, she curled up on the tiny bunk bed in her cabin and ate a peach for supper, the last piece of fruit she figured she would have for weeks.

After she was done, she unpinned her stomacher and peeled her dress off her arms, tossing it one side with abandonment. In only her chemise, corset and petticoats, she lay back in bed and closed her eyes. The painfully familiar rolling and churning of the ocean failed to lure her into sleep. Something was keeping her from resting...and it was his eyes. Every time she closed her own, all she could remember was the dark blue of that rude stranger's eyes boring into hers without apology.

A warmth she had never felt flowed through her body. Impatiently, she loosened her corset, but it did not make the feeling go away. She felt warm and wanton and all was was doing was remembering his eyes. She shuddered to think what would happen to her if she gave the same thought to that exposed patch of skin just below his neck....

Sleep was a long time in coming for Relena.

And meanwhile, less than a nautical mile behind her ship, the man in her thoughts followed the *Lady Anne*, waiting for the perfect opportunity to attack.

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To Be Continued