Author's Note: Thank you for taking the time to read this story. I was watching Pirates with my sisters the other day and this just popped into my mind, and then wouldn't leave me alone. Now that I've started to write, it's just pouring out of me. If you like to review, you may just be my new best friend, even if it's a flame. I still like to read them.

Also, I am writing several other fanfics of other genres, ones that I have been neglecting horribly. From now on, I am going to work on all of them, and then try my hardest to update every Monday.

p.s. I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean. I only own Katherine, her father, Captain Sinclair, and any other character that you don't recognize.

"Your stitches are sloppy, Miss," Agnes said, hardly looking up from her own embroidery. "Take them out and start again."

"I can't see how it matters," I sighed, setting the piece of linen down in my lap and stretching. "It's not like I'm ever going to actually use this kerchief for anything."

"If the stitches weren't so horrid, then perhaps you could use it," my maid replied. "Now take them out and do it again."

With a low groan, I did as I was told and began to carefully pull all of my stitches out. I had been working on this same kerchief everyday for nearly a week, and I was making no progress. Each time I would start, my stitches would be worse than the time before, and Agnes would tell me to pull them out; I was quickly growing frustrated.

The sound of a carriage pulling up in front of the house caught my attention. I looked up from my needlework and craned my neck to see, but Agnes' sharp voice brought be back.

"It's just your dear father home," she stated. "You wouldn't have him see how little you have done today, would you?"

"No," I replied stiffly. I had worked hard at it all day; I just had nothing to show for my work. Instead of arguing with her, I bent my head back to the linen in my lap.

A moment later, the door to my parlour opened, and Thomas walked in.

"Excuse me, Miss," he said with a bow. "His Lordship wishes to see you in his office at your earliest convenience."

Immediately I was out of my chair. I dropped my needlework onto the table beside my chair and hurried towards the door.

"Katherine!" Agnes cried. "Come pick up your stitchery!"

"My father needs me," I replied quickly while I hurried out of the room. "I'll come back for it."

"No you won't, you lazy brat," Agnes muttered darkly. I ignored her and continued down the stairs.

I was surprised when I neared the bottom of the stairs, for I could clearly make out the sound of two male voices coming from inside the study. In all of the years since my mother had died, there had never been any visitors in our home. Instead of rushing into the room, like I normally would have done, I stopped outside the open door and knocked on the jamb.

"Ah, here she is!" my father called jovially. "Come in; come in, my sweet Katherine."

I stepped into the room and saw that there was, indeed, a strange man in a naval uniform sitting with my father at his desk. Both men rose quickly as I entered the room.

"Hello, Father," I smiled brightly at him.

"Come here, my sweetheart," he said, walking around the corner of his desk and embracing me. "I would like for you to meet a dear friend of mine. Katherine, this is Captain George Sinclair."

"Ah, Captain Sinclair," I said, flashing a brilliant smile at him and hold out my hand. "I have heard much about you; it is quite the honour to meet you."

The Captain took my hand and brought it gently to his lips. "The pleasure is all mine, Miss Swann, I can assure you."

"Isn't she beautiful, George?" my father asked, returning to his spot behind the desk.

"Absolutely lovely," Captain Sinclair replied, flushing slightly.

"Now, Papa," I smiled demurely. "Stop being so bold; you're making our guest uncomfortable."

"That was not my intention, I assure you," Father chuckled. "Captain Sinclair here will be joining us for dinner this evening, Katherine."

"Are you indeed?" I asked the Captain, still smiling. "Then I suppose I should go and try to make myself presentable. I will see you both at dinner." I gave a small curtsey to each one and left the room.

Agnes was waiting for me at the top of the stairs. "Who is the gentleman with your father?"

"A friend of his," I replied as I walked past her. "Captain George Sinclair."

"A Captain?" Agnes seemed impressed. "There's hasn't been a guest here for nigh on five years; I wonder why he is here."

"He is to join us for dinner," I informed her. "I think I should need your help to get fixed up."

"I should think so," Agnes scoffed, following me to my room. "I would like to see you try it without me."

I rolled my eyes but said nothing; Agnes was grumpy and, at times, overly bold, but she was the closest thing I had to a mother, and I was rather fond of her. And as much as she complained about me, I knew that she cared for me as well.

PPPPPPPPP

I descended the stairs promptly at five o'clock, dressed in one of my best gowns. I had objected when Agnes had picked it out of my wardrobe, but she had ignored my protests, as was usual.

"There's no need to dress up this much," I had complained as I held onto the foot of my bed so she could lace me into my corsets. "I am staying in my own home, after all."

"It's not every day that there is a gentleman for dinner," Agnes had replied. "Now hush; these are still too loose."

Father and Captain Sinclair were still in the study when I reached the front landing, so that's where I went.

Captain Sinclair was leaning on the desk, with his back to the door, showing my father something on a map in front of them, so he didn't notice when I entered the room, but Father did. His face changed immediately from the concentrated, wrinkled mask to the bright, beaming face that I knew so well.

"Ah, Katherine," Father said, rising from his chair and holding his hand out to me. "You look lovely, my dear."

"Thank you, Papa," I smiled at him, walking into the room sliding my hand into his. "What is it you are discussing?"

"Aha," Father chuckled. "Now that is nothing you should worry yourself with, my dear. It is simply man talk."

I frowned; Father had never before kept something from me. Perhaps it had something to do with the Captain being present; I knew that many men tried to keep their women as ignorant as possible, but my father wasn't like that in the least. Perhaps he would tell me later, when the Captain left.

"Excuse me, my Lord," Thomas said, standing in the doorway. "Dinner is served."

"Ah, perfect timing," Father said loudly. "Shall we move into the dining room?" He held his arm out to me, which I took, and we made our way out of the study and across the hall to the dining room.

It felt strange sitting at the dining room table; no one had used the room since Mother had died. There had been no reason to, as father and I were the only ones to ever eat here. Typically, we took our meals together in front of the fireplace in his study.

The meal was rather more entertaining that I had thought that it would be. Captain Sinclair and my father told stories about their time together in the Navy, and about court. The Captain thought that it was rather amazing that we lived in London, a mere ten minute carriage ride to St. James Palace, and I had never been to court.

"It never occurred to me to take her," Father replied defensively. "It seems as though yesterday she was a tiny little thing, toddling about the gardens, and now, here she is sitting here, a fine young lady, looking the very image of her mother." I blushed, more from the reminiscing than from the compliments, and bowed my head over my plate. He sighed and shook his head sadly. "How the time flies. Remember that, for your own children, George."

"Oh, have you got children?" I asked, looking for a change of subject. Father had already consumed several glasses of wine, so the subject of my mother would soon bring tears to him.

"Ah, no, I haven't," the Captain said quickly. "I am unfortunate enough to have not yet found a wife."

"Oh," I replied. With a smile, I added, "Well, I'm sure that you will find a very fine woman to wed very soon."

"Thank you, Miss Swann," Captain Sinclair said, bowing slightly to me.

It was fully dark when all of the dishes had finally been cleared from the table.

"Would you like to join me for a cigar?" Father asked the Captain as we all rose from the table. "They are of the very finest tobacco; my brother has sent them from Jamaica."

"I will," Captain Sinclair agreed.

"Are you to retire, my dear?" Father asked me.

"Yes, I believe so," I replied with a smile. "I am rather tired."

"Then good night, my sweet." Father leaned in and kissed my forehead. I smiled at him and turned to Captain Sinclair.

"It was lovely to meet you, Captain," I said, giving a small curtsy and offering him my hand.

"As it was, you, Miss Swann," Captain Sinclair replied. He took my hand and brushed it with his lips. "Until we meet again."

"Good night." I smiled again, and swept out of the room.

Agnes was waiting for me in my room. I went to her immediately, and turned so she could undo my laces.

"How was it?" she asked as she began to untie my bodice.

"It was lovely," I replied.

"What is the Captain like?"

"He seems like a very nice gentleman," I replied. "He seems to be a rather good friend of Father's."

"Is he handsome?"

I scoffed at her; of course that was what she was thinking. "I suppose so."

"What do you mean, you suppose so?" she snapped, jerking my bodice down a little too roughly. "Either the man is handsome, or he is not. Make up your mind."

"Well, yes," I replied. "I suppose he's handsome enough. He's tall, and had dark hair. He's quite amiable."

Agnes snorted as she finished untying my corset. "As though that's what matters," she said, pulling the corset off and laying them on the bed. She handed me my nightgown. "Here, put this on."

I did as she said and then moved to sit on the bench in front of my mirror. Agnes followed, and picked up the brush. This was my favorite part of the day; I was certainly old enough to brush my own hair, but it was so much more relaxing when Agnes did it for me.

"So he's handsome enough," Agnes said as she began to run the brush through my hair. I closed my eyes in pure bliss. "And he's a Captain; he's well respected. And he's more than likely got money."

She paused in her brushing to make sure that I wasn't completely ignoring her. I wasn't really paying attention, but I gave a small murmur to make her think that I was.

"So," she continued. "He would make a lovely husband for you, Miss."

"What?" My eyes snapped open and I pulled away from her. I turned in my seat to look up at her. "Agnes, he's old! He's got to be nearly as old as Papa is."

"That matters not," Agnes replied, turning me back around with a firm grip on my shoulder. "It would be a fine match."

"But he's old!" I repeated irritably. "Father would never marry me off to someone whom I didn't care for."

"Alright, Miss," Agnes said in her 'soothing' voice; it only made me angrier. "Let's not get worked up over it tonight. You've just met the man."

She resumed her brushing, but I was unable to find and pleasure in it. After the hundredth stroke, she quickly wove my hair into a thick plait that hung well down my back and tied it with a silk ribbon. I knelt by the bed to say my prayers, and then climbed into my warm bed and fell into a restless slumber.