Scrunching up her brows, Polly casts Barrington a coy look. "Well, I may be hiding secrets too! Polly isn't m' God given name. An' I wouldnae be surprised if you're a pirate. M' pappy says pirates outnumber colonists on New Providence two t' one these days." "Polly" chats about how her family came over from Barbados after a failed rum business and creditors seeking her father. She surrepitiously compliments James on his hat, sips her sherry a bit too quickly, and overall gives the impression of a young woman who just met her idol.
As nice as it is for the young bar wench to pretend she is of means, she dares not refuse the directive given to her. After a pause, she sets down her empty glass of sherry. "See the' man there in the navy cap, James?" She points out a rough-looking sailor at the far side of the tavern, and upon catching Barrington's eye the man tips his cap subtlety. "Says th' bottle is compliments of Captain Read Wallace, and wishes a word with you." "Polly" bites her lip, and quickly blurts out, "I'd be obliged if you'd walk me home aft' closing shop. What with the storm coming in, I mean. I might even tell you m' Welsh name." Embarassed at her own boldness, the bar wench hurries off to resume serving sailors.
Outside, evening wind shakes the palm trees which scratch against the tavern roof. A distant boom of thunder resounds off the coast.
