Author's Note: Welcome to chapter six of "My Friendliest". I'd like to thank those who read and reviewed the last chapter, Loony Lemur and Astraeas Dreams. Thanks so much for commenting! Again, I do not have a beta for this chapter so any spelling or grammatical errors that appear in this fic are my fault and my fault alone. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or its characters.

May 22, 1730

My fairest,

I was met with many delays before I could find time to compose this letter. The urgent tone in your last message impressed a worried mood upon me and I could scarce think of anything else. Just after your letter arrived, Mr. Mercer brought news of the sinking of the Edinburgh Trader. The destruction of such a meaningless ship, one not under my command, would under normal circumstances mean little to me. But there were several sailors who provided certain chilling details that even now I look out at the sea with a shudder. Among the wreckage, some ill-gotten goods were pulled from the water, so I suppose old Captain Bellamy received a just punishment for his wrongdoing.

Yet, in light of this situation, I beg you to abandon any notion of sea travel. Stay close to the land and caution all others to do so. I do not wish to frighten you, my lovely, but peril now rides on the waves in a most sinister form.

Now, as to the details of your letter. I shall admit my fury was great when I first read your account of your uncle's cruel outburst. I paced before the hearth for a good hour before my temper cooled enough to think straight. If I was at your side the wicked man would not have dared to be so forceful. He would not have even dared to show his face in my presence. Do not worry, dearest Anne, I have taken certain measures to assure that your uncle will never trouble you again.

I have written to several colleagues of mine, acquaintances formed during my many business transactions. They know your uncle and they know now to exclude him from any trade of theirs. He will be starved out for rendering such grievous insults upon your character.

Still, I would wish for a higher form of satisfaction. I should like to call him out for a duel when I return to England, but I fear too much time shall have elapsed. Instead, I am considering sending someone to fight in my stead. An expert swordsman, perhaps, if I can find one on this wretched island. I think that shall settle the matter nicely, don't you agree?

You question me regarding your uncle's mention of an offered apology on his part two years past and I see fit to give you an honest answer, as always. I did, indeed, meet with your uncle. But it should be noted that all he said was not true. He was rather blunt and cruel with me, not at all polite as he would lead you to believe. The man demanded an apology. He still thinks I tried to rob you of your maidenhood. I suppose that is why he refers to the night in stables, when he came upon us exchanging a chaste kiss.

I listened to him with all patience and once he had finished his tirade, he requested that I extend to him certain privileges of trade. I, being an honest man, refused.

And there you have the truth of it, my dearest. I only disguised the matter from you to save you from more heartache. I hope you do not find cause to be vexed by it.

I find I cannot protest your visits to the barn. If Marcus and his mare provide you with some comfort, then I am glad for it. But that does not mean that I do not caution you to take care. Guard yourself well against the cold. I know the weather in England is more temperamental than an unbroken horse.

You describe yourself as often weary and ill. I wonder, does the midwife know this? Or is she a worthless old woman who cannot care for you as she should? Perhaps you should call for the physician. Tell him I will pay whatever price he demands for a treatment to cure your aches. I know you wish to join your sister in London, but I implore you to remain home. Don't be foolish, Anne. There is too much at stake now.

It perplexes me to think that your next letter should tell me of the birth of our child. I am not sure how I view the prospect of fatherhood. Happily, of course, though I wish I could attend to both you and the child at once. I have heard tales from certain sailors in which they profess to have not seen their children or wives for years. I do not think I could abide that. As soon as I may, as soon as the sea is safe again and you are well, I shall send for you. The Caribbean may not compare to our gentle life in England, but at least we should be together.

As to the names, I much prefer Catherine over Margaret. I knew a Margaret as a boy and she was horrid little wench, always pushing and pinching me. The name James, I fear, will not do. One of the men I am currently searching for is a James Norrington. I would not want my son to be named after a scoundrel. What of my name? Is it not tradition to name the firstborn male after the father?

Ah, there is a knock upon my door. I am afraid I too must forgo the quote and hasten to end this letter. Take care my dear and remember the love I bear for you.

Your dearest husband,

Lord Cutler Beckett

P.S. No news of Sparrow yet. The rascal eludes me still. Pray that I may ensnare him before the close of the summer