A/N: Thank you so much for reviewing my story. I was so excited to get the last chapter up (once I saw I had readers) that I didn't write a little author's note saying thanks. THANK YOU! Well here is the third chapter, it's on the long side, but most of the chapter are/will be. So far I have written around 7, and I'm starting to get a bit of writer's block. I have an ending in mind, but I don't want it to be a typical 'Mary Sue' type of ending ,so I'll need to think about it for a while. If anyone wants they are more than welcome to give constructive criticism. Thank you for reading and enjoy!
Chapter 3- Escape into the Night
"Did I mention that you look absolutely lovely Miss Jones?" Thomas asked.
"Yes you did," Miranda reminded him. All through dinner and even the first couple of dances he had complemented her appearance. In fact most people did point out that she looked very beautiful in blue, but Miranda didn't care. While she liked blue, she also thought that the sleeves were too short, and the neckline too low. She knew the exact reason the dress was chosen, so that men would notice her. Thomas twirled her around and the soft fabric fanned out before hitting her ankles as it came back down. She hated dancing, except when it was informal and spontaneous. Thomas's dancing was no where near informal. He danced as if he had grown up doing it, and most likely had from what information Miranda gathered about him through their dinner conversation. 'At least he isn't tripping all over himself…and me," she told herself.
At that moment, the large door to the entry way flew open, the rain and wind blown leaves following the cloak covered form inside. Miranda pulled her self away from Thomas to join the figure.
"Thank god you made it home safely Fiona," Miranda said as she approached her cousin.
"Yes, well I almost didn't make it," Fiona brushed her clothes off, "That storm is a strong one. I better go change, I am just absolutely drenched." Fiona then quickly headed upstairs to dry off.
"Was that her?" Thomas asked when Miranda returned.
"Yes, that is my cousin Fiona," Miranda said.
"You two must be very close," Thomas pointed out. Miranda rolled her eyes, she wasn't close to Fiona. She was a handful to take care of, and nothing more. Miranda was forced to spend time with her ever since she was put into her Aunt and Uncles care.
"I guess you could say that." She said, "Shall we resume?" Miranda held out her hand and without any hesitation Thomas took it and they began dancing again.
Miranda sat down on the closest chair to the doorway after the last of the night's guest left the house.
"That was quite possibly the most boring man I have ever met," she confessed to her cousin. Fiona finally made it to the party, halfway through the after dinner dancing.
"I'm awfully sorry that I showed up so late," Fiona apologized for what seemed to be the one-hundredth times that night.
"Oh don't worry about it. So how did it go?" Miranda asked turning her head to face Fiona.
"What? Oh you mean…"
"Yes, what would I mean?"
"I don't know. It went just fine. I was able to get the records you asked about. What do you want those for, they have to be about 50 years old," Fiona gave her cousin a quizzical look.
"I just need to check something that is all. There's no need to worry." Miranda reassured her.
"I'm not worried, just curious," Fiona stood up, "I think that its time for the real fun to begin."
"Oh Fiona, not tonight, I still have that bruise on my arm from last time," Miranda shook her head.
"Oh come one. Please, I need to see him again," Fiona begged, "No one told you to get into the fight and besides, you won."
"I did, didn't I?' a nostalgic smile spread across Miranda's lips.
"Yes it was amazing, now can we get ready to go?" Fiona pleaded lifting her cousin out of the chair.
"Oh alright," Miranda followed reluctantly up stairs, "But I get to were MY hat this time!"
"Will you hurry up?" Fiona frantically whispered. Miranda grabbed the hat from the top of her wardrobe and headed toward the open bedroom window.
"Oh wait," I almost forgot!" she headed back to her vanity, grabbed the music box and a small dagger.
"Just in case, "she said to herself. Miranda then proceeded to climb down the rope that hung from her bedroom window.
When the two girls made it into the tavern their ears were filled with music and laughter.
"We've gotten here much earlier than usual," Miranda pointed out, "Most of the men aren't nearly as drunk as usual."
"Right. Now where is he?" Fiona searched the tavern, "Oh, John!" She then rushed over to a man in a brown vest and slacks.
"Fi!" he called sweeping her into his arms, "Oh it's so good to see you." His right hand lowered down to her buttocks.
"Hey stop that," Fiona giggled removing his hand.
"Awe come on Fi," he pleaded, "It's been an awfully long time."
"You know the rules." Miranda said coming up from behind them "Hands off. Besides we almost got caught the last time we were here."
"Yes 'mother' I know," John pulled away from Fiona, "How are ye doin' Miranda?" He pulled her into a hug.
"I'm doing alright John," she said returning the friendly embrace.
"Are you sure? You look a bit paler then usual," he pointed out.
"It's probably just the storm John. You need not worry about little ol' me," she said taking a seat at the table they found. Of course she didn't let them in on the fact that she had a strange feeling since she stepped foot inside the tavern. Fiona cleared her throat and gave John a look as if to remind him of something.
"Oh, that's right," he said apparently reading her expression perfectly, "Bar keep! A mug of rum o'er here for the birthday gi…"Miranda gave him a deathly stare.
"Don't you dare," she said through gritted teeth.
"Oh wouldn't I?" a mischievous smile spread across John's face.
Oh John please don't," Fiona chimed in.
"For the birthday girl," he whispered.
"Is there a young lad with a birthday o'er here?" a prostitute walked over to them holding a large jug of rum.
"Yes. Yes, there is, and he's right here," John put a hand on Miranda's shoulder.
"I hate you," she muttered under her breath.
"I'm sorry, did you say something love?" the prostitute asked.
"Uh no," Miranda tried to say in the manliest sailor voice she could muster, "I thank ye fer your trouble."
"It was no trouble at all love," she said, "Is that all ye'll be wanting?"
"Aye, quite," Miranda reassured her, "Run along now, ye don't want to keep the other men waiting." The prostitute then got up and left.
'I hate you so much sometimes John," she said hitting his arm.
"It's all out of love darling," he said picking up Fiona and sitting her on the table top, "What would you like to drink me dear?"
"You know that I don't drink, unlike my dear cousin over here." Fiona let out a small chuckle.
"I've noticed that. Do you reckon she'd trying to drown out the fact the her own mother killed herself over a broken heart?" All at once John was up against the pillar that held up a part of the second floor.
"Don't you ever say that about my mother again," Miranda screamed, "And I don't drink to drown out the bad memories of my life."
"I was only jokin' Miranda," John said, his face turning slightly red from the pressure under Miranda's hand around his throat.
"That's Miss Jones to you," Miranda corrected, "You no longer have the privilege of addressing me in such an informal manner."
"Cousin he said he was joking. Please put him down before you kill him," Fiona begged, "If you keep this going you'll start another fight."
"I don't think she'll kill him, but your lovely cousin is right. Let the boy down," a male voice said.
"Who the bloody hell are you?" Miranda turned to find the face which the voice belong to , and found a pair of chocolate eyes rimmed with kohl.
"The name is Captain Jack Sparrow. Put the boy down, savvy?" he said placing his hand over Miranda's. She let go of John and ripped her hand away from Jack's.
"Why do you care about the lad, Captain?" she asked.
"I don't care about him," Jack confessed, "It's you I care about. May I have a word, Miss Jones was it?" realizing that this very strange man knew that she was, indeed, a girl she dropped the pirate accent.
"You are correct. And whatever you have to say to me you can say in the presence of my cousin," she looked over at Fiona who was absolutely petrified, "Fiona, will you get your ass over here?" Miranda turned toward her.
"I'm sorry Miranda, but I've heard some awful stories about him. I'm not stepping a foot closer," Fiona confessed weakly her eyes moving toward the floor.
"Awful stories about me eh?" Jack smiled, "I would love to hear 'em. But it seems that I don't have the time. Miss Jones if you would please step outside with me, I really need to discus something."
"Alright Mr. Sparrow, you have five minutes," Miranda warned.
"Five minutes is all I need love," he said and with that he followed Miranda out of the tavern.
"so what is it that you want, Mr. Sparrow?" she asked as soon as they were outside.
"I believe the time has come to break that curse of your savvy?" Jack said circling Miranda, "And it's Captain Sparrow."
"What?" she asked.
"Gent's, we got her," Jack said with a wicked smile on his face. The next thing Miranda saw was the inside of a burlap sack.