Well, here's the next instalment. Thanks to River and Scarlet Woman for the reviews and follows, let me know what you think about this one.
Chp 4
The sun set early on this part of the cove. While the streets were already deep in shadow, the sky was still blue, though deepening to black. It was quieter on the streets than he thought, though most would be down by the docks celebrating.
She wasn't celebrating. Damn, he was an ass, of course she wouldn't be. He felt guilty and anxious for leaving her friendless to fend for herself in this damn city.
He rounded the corner and saw a familiar blue sign. Of course, he thought, of course, Teague would bring her to Esmeralda's inn. This town was too small. Rumour was they had become close. He didn't really care to know how close.
The door chimed he walked in. A few people were at the bar or around tables, taking their supper. It smelled good. He realized he'd forgotten about supper, being focused on other activities. His stomach growled. Esmeralda must have found a new cook, she was never much for cooking herself.
"Jackie!" A deep voice called out. It sent shivers down his spine. Always made him feel like he was in trouble. Teague was a mostly absentee father, though he did discipline him on more than one occasion and ensured that Jack learned to read, write, and play the guitar. That set Jack apart from most of his childhood friends. Sailing, on the other hand, was like breathing if you grew up in Shipwreck. Like swimming, walking or climbing ropes, it was simply something you did, and in fact was required to get around to parts of the city.
Jack turned to see Teague and Gibbs at a table with Esmeralda. She hadn't changed a bit. Still good looking. He wasn't sure how his heart would feel about seeing her. So far nothing. He relaxed a little. He also felt a touch better knowing that Gibbs had stayed with Elizabeth. A familiar face.
"Captain, Sparrow!" cried Gibbs, startled to see him. He was quite sure that he saw him disappear into the Mermaid Inn not three hours earlier. "Something the matter sir?" he asked, trying to read the look on Jack's face, as he walked over to their table.
He bent to kiss Esmeralda's cheek in greeting, as was their tradition. "I was told that I shouldn't expect to see you til tomorrow at the earliest," she said, her lips finding his cheek to return the hello.
"Well, you should be mistaken," he grunted, awkward as ever. "Mr. Gibbs," he asked, turning to his first mate, "have you seen Elizabeth?"
"Miss Swann, er, I mean Mrs. Turner," stuttered Gibbs, "wasn't feeling well and retired to a bath. Did you know that they hooked the plumbing directly into one of the hot springs in the cove? Don't even have to boil the bath water anymore."
"Ah, I see," said Jack trying to figure a way of getting out of this idle chit chat and down the hall to Elizabeth. But Teague pulled out a chair and motioned for him to sit and join them. His stomach growled at the smell of stew.
"Join us," rumbled Teague, "the stew's mutton and the bread is fresh made today. A nice change from hardtack and fish, I'll gather."
A bowl and spoon were quickly procured and Jack found himself sitting next to his father tucking into a heel of bread sopped in think gravy. He didn't think he'd miss the taste of meat so much, but it was unexpectedly satisfying and meant that he had and excuse not to join their conversation about farming flightless birds and growing potatoes. Agriculture was one culture that he found exceedingly boring.
Her hair was still damp when she entered the bar. She was wearing a borrowed dress. It was modest with long sleeves and a high neck. It was ugly and ill fitting, but at least it was clean. She shuffled the skirt down to her hips, as it was too wide for her waist and short for her legs. She hated it, but told herself she wasn't here to impress anyone.
She hated it more when she saw that Jack Sparrow was sitting with Teague and the others. She chided herself for being vain and thought to return to her room, but wanted to clarify something with Teague and she was here now. She wished she had at least taken the time to pin up her hair.
"Elizabeth," called Gibbs, waving her over. Damn, she thought, as the others at the table turned to see her. She swallowed her shallow pride, straightening her shoulders and walking over.
What was Jack doing here? Why did she find his presence so unnerving now, where before he had only ever made her feel safe and secure? She could feel her heart racing as she approached, glad that the dim light would hide her blushing. She looked away when their eyes met.
She felt like everyone in the room could see through her. That she could desire another man so soon after the death of her husband. It was scandalous and shamed her. A man who had made it quite clear to her and everyone on the crew that he wanted no part of her. He did not trust her. Not even for a chaste hug or kiss in thanks and goodbye before she rowed off to see Will for the last time.
Besides, it would never work out between them. She couldn't remember who had said it first, but it was something they seemed to agree on, though it broke her heart to think it now.
Focus. She was not here to think about Jack Sparrow. "Gentlemen, Esmeralda," she said in greeting as she approached.
"Everything is well in hand for the memorial tomorrow," said Esmeralda. It had been decided at the meeting of the brethren that afternoon that a formal ceremony would be held to remember those lost in battle. "There is nothing for you to worry about. We will sail out at noon."
Elizabeth nodded, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. She swallowed hard, but couldn't find her voice. How could she have let the memorial slip her mind? People died because she had called them to battle. They might still be alive if she chose differently. Or perhaps more would have died. Here she was worrying about the fit of her dress and matters of the heart. She stood there stupidly blinking back tears. Teague was saying something. Damn. She wiped her eyes quickly with a corner of her sleeve. She was a mess.
"I'm sorry Captain," she said, realizing she was being offered a seat next to Jack. He was so close his shoulder brushed against hers. She leaned a little away from him, hugging herself. Making herself small. Invisible. He smelled of salt and rum and that musky sweaty man smell that she shouldn't find attractive, but made her weak in the knees. She wanted to feel his arms around her. She wanted to bury her head in his shoulder. People died and and she was distracted by the scent of a man. She wanted to disappear. She turned her back to him and focused on Teague. "What was that? I'm afraid I'm not quite myself tonight."
"Just inviting you to join us for some stew," he said gently, setting a bowl and spoon before her. "You should eat well while you're here. You're wasting away on ships rations."
"Thank you," she said picking up her spoon. Pushing away the memory of dying men, some by her sword. The sound of their cries lingered in her mind. She took a moment to gather her thoughts. "Actually Captain, there's something else, I came to ask for clarification as to who is paying my way. As you know, I haven't a penny to my name. There was no bounty to divide from the battle. I don't want to be a burden or to live off the charity of others. I would rather find a job and pay my own way." Act normal. Stay focused.
People assumed that a governors daughter would be a spoiled brat, good for nothing but looking pretty and providing heirs to whatever upper class husband she was married off to. It was her lot to be taken care of by others. Something Jack felt he would never be able to do to her satisfaction. And so he once told her it would never work out. But he had an inkling, now confirmed, that she wanted to make her own way in life. It could work out. Or it could have, maybe, if he realized this sooner and she hadn't married that whelp.
Jack frowned and shifted in his seat. She smelled of lavender. An unruly lock of hair came untucked from behind her ear. He chewed on a hangnail to keep his hand from reaching over to tuck it back. His foot bumped hers under the table. He felt her recoil at his touch. "Sorry," he mumbled.
What? Oh, it's Jack. She was so wound up. Calm down. Act normal. She relaxed and smiled apologetically at him. Put her foot back down. Her foot brushing against his.
"As you know from this afternoons meeting with the brethren," Teague replied, "the Pearl will have free access to the stores for repairs and reprovisioning. As for your room here, this dinner and other sundry, you may consider it charity or our debt to you. The brethren have all agreed to contribute to make your stay at Shipwreck City more comfortable. Pirates may not be known for their charity, but we're fair and we take care of our own."
She nodded. Our own. She was one of them now. That warmed her heart more than he could know. She could feel some of the tension leaving her body. "Thank you," she said taking a bite of stew. A simple dish of meat and herbs, but well seasoned and the meat perfectly tender. She had to remind herself to take dainty bites as her throat was still sore from earlier exertions. Her head was already elsewhere. It was best not to dwell. She had to talk to Tai Huang. First thing tomorrow, she told herself.
"Perhaps we should clarify as well," said Teague, considering her words. "It was assumed that you would be returning to Port Royal, on the first ship available or perhaps once the Pearl was repaired. But I wonder if that is your intention given that you're looking for work. Will you be going back to Jamaica?"
Elizabeth stopped with the spoon halfway to her mouth. Port Royal? She set her spoon down and looked at Teague. "No," she said, surprised at their assumption. "There's nothing for me there but a hangman's noose." She worried the scar on her arm. She was marked. Didn't they know?
"Surely, you have someone to take you in, lass," said Gibbs. He'd known Elizabeth since she was a young girl. He never thought much of girls, especially girls of her class, though Elizabeth had proved herself to him time and again.
"No," said Elizabeth quietly, quite certain her society friends would be happy to turn her in, the gossip surrounding her arrest on her wedding day was certainly not something that she could ever live down. At best she could hope for their pity.
She had seen things they could not begin to imagine. She had killed people. There were things, wonderful and awful, that she could never unsee. Things that fundamentally changed how she viewed the world. She would be entirely alone in questioning her Christian faith. The god she prayed to all her life, the teachings of the church, could never have prepared her for her trip to worlds end and bring a man back from the dead, nor to see Will alive with his heart cut out of his chest. All of the fantastically stories of her childhood come to life. If they didn't hang her for being a pirate, might they burn her for her heretical thoughts?
Jack watched her carefully. She was upset, that was obvious. He tapped her foot lightly with his under the table. Tap tap. Come back to us, lass. Don't get lost in that pretty head full of dark thoughts. She looked at him a little blankly. Then she tapped him back once. His right foot and her left foot touching under the table.
"What about England? Surely, you still have relatives there," added Esmeralda, trying to be helpful.
"No," Elizabeth's whispered response. Hers was a small family, Word of her arrest left her disowned. Distant relatives asking for their wedding gifts to be returned. Her poor father was so shamed. It broke her heart, but what could she have done? What choice did she have but to help Jack after all he had done for her and Will? She couldn't have just watched him hang.
This feeling of hopelessness was twisting in her belly. She suddenly lost her appetite. She found herself using her sleeve to wipe her tears. "No," she squeaked, "I can't ever go back. Please don't send me away."
She had been sent away once before, to live with an uncle, when her mother died and her father was still away at sea. Her older cousins made her their new plaything. She was young and aimed to please, though she did not always fully consent to their games and roughhousing that left her injured and abandoned on more than one occasion. The bruises she could handle, but their laughter at her expense still scarred her.
Jack hushed her and handed her a mostly clean kerchief. Their feet pressed together. "No one is asking you to do anything you don't want to do," he said, shooting daggers at the others around the table, to which they returned, how-could-we-have-know looks. He patted her shoulder awkwardly. Her knee pressed against his. Contact. A connection. "You are always welcome on the Pearl," he said, almost a whisper in her ear.
He said it like a lovers promise. Like something sacred. His voice low and husky. Oh, that he would love her like he loved that ship. Her tears stopped and she turned away from him to blow her nose. "Thank you, Jack," she whispered back.
"I'd like to take some time to consider my options," said Elizabeth, clearing her throat. "There are some things I need to discuss with Tai Huang in the morning."
"Tai Huang?" said Esmeralda surprised, "did no one tell you? The Empress was one of the ships that went hunting after the battle. A number of ships gave chase to the EIC, hoping for easy pickings to those familiar with these waters. There are shallows and doldrums that can easily slow or stall a ship for days. If they catch them close by, they may return to Shipwreck to trade their wares, otherwise they may continue on their way."
Elizabeth looked at Esmeralda with her mouth hanging open incredulous. It was a mutiny. The men around the table shifted uneasily trying to think of something to say that wouldn't set off more tears.
Elizabeth laughed. It was unexpected, even for her, but once she started she couldn't stop and it was infectious. How absurd for her to be Pirate King! Captain of a Chinese ship, with a crew she could barely understand! She was stranded on an island full of the most notorious pirates, theives and cutthroats and she never felt more alive or at home. How could any of this be real? She cracked. And it spilled out of her as laughter.
All tension left the table. She laughed until she couldn't breathe. She was drowning in laughter. She laughed until she was doubled over holding her side. "Oh, ow," she gasped, "at least they didn't leave me stranded somewhere with a single shot."
Gibbs roared, "true that, ain't it Cap'n?" He slapped Jack on the back and snickered.
Jack sneered. Though he couldn't maintain his frown, it was such a delight to see her laugh. "Didn't you enjoy our time together on that deserted island, luv?" he asked with a smile. "I feel suddenly parched from the memory of you burning all the rum." Those around the table howled with laugher. "I need a drink. Something stiffer than tea or grog, haven't you any proper drink in this place, Esmeralda?"
Esmeralda waved to a barmaid and pointed to Jack. A bottle of rum quickly appeared along with several glasses. Drinks were poured. "A toast?" asked Jack.
"Take what you can," said Elizabeth, gaining her composure and holding her glass high.
"Give nothing back," they said in response.
I hope there was enough going on in this chapter to keep your interest. It's not exactly action packed. and apologies for no kissing which I hinted at in my comments last chapter, but it's too soon. believe me, I wrote in all kinds of smooching and other shenanigans, but took it out. there will be time enough for that later. - anyhoo let me know what you think. I am always very appreciative of your reviews.