“I assure you, dear woman, I am doing no such thing.” He righted himself on the bench again. “I am like any other man here,” he said, fluffing the cuffs of his shirt, seeing he had done nothing to convince the old woman he belonged there.

“Okay, dearie. You can’t say I didn’t warn you. What can I get you, then?” she asked, shaking her head. James could tell she thought he was out of place, which made him worry the other pirates in the room probably felt the same.

There were several small tables scattered around the room, and one large one in the middle, around which most of the patrons were sitting together. It was a rather motley crew of pirates, and while many were laughing and swapping stories, a few of them were looking over at James menacingly. One, the ginger-haired pirate with the large gash on his face, seemed particularly interested in him. James did his best not to give the man more than another passing glance and focused his gaze on the serving woman croaking away at him.

“Bring me the specialty of the house, and a round of refreshments for everyone here,” James said, raising his voice so the pirates could hear him, which got him little more than a few raised eyebrows and glances from the pirates sitting at a large table across the room.

“Sure thing, guv’nah,” she said, walking away from the table muttering something under her breath that James could not hear for the rasp of her croaky voice, and the laughter coming from the rambunctious group of pirates.

James felt, all things considered, he was off to a good start. He had managed to procure himself a proper pirate’s outfit, he’d found the place in which they congregated between campaigns, and now all he had to do was get himself a position on one of their ships. Things were going exactly as he had planned, and he was feeling quite pleased with himself.

Just then someone came bursting through the double wooden doors of the establishment, bellowing James’s name over and over. All eyes turned to the squat little man with his gray hair in his butler’s uniform.

“Master James, Master James, are you here?” called the portly little man as he looked frantically around the room.

James was mortified. His stomach dropped as the room went silent, making James sink down in his seat, realizing everyone was now looking at him. This was not how he wanted things to go. He had intended to strike up a conversation with some of the men once the serving woman brought out their drinks. This was going all wrong.

“Master James, what are you playing at?” asked the little man, his face now red and his brow wet with sweat. “Why on earth are you here of all places?”