Chapter: 7

Justification


"Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved."---- Bryan, William Jennings
" Why aren't you dancing, Emma?" Rebecca asked, stepping off the crowded dance floor to join her hostess, who was standing alone with an empty wine glass in her elegant hand.

Emma looked like she was about to fling herself into the abyss when she should have been the happiest one there. She'd avoided the guests, refused to dance, and never once smiled. The only thing she took pleasure in was her wine...which was now gone, adding to the depressed look on Emma's face.

" I don't really feel like dancing..." she said softly, eyeing Owen across the dance floor. " It's not like anyone notices my absence."

Rebecca followed her gaze to find Lord Owen Van Wyk flirting shamelessly with a beautiful young woman across the room. She clicked her tongue. " That man is a horrid excuse for a husband. I don't see why you're going through with this."

" Do I have a choice?" Emma bit back, setting the empty wine glass on a nearby table.

Rebecca frowned. " Why wouldn't you?"

" Look at me, Rebecca. I'm not a fifteen year old girl anymore. Before I know it, I'll be too old for anyone to marry...and I'll end up on the streets...alone forever," she replied, hardly believing her own words.

" That isn't true, Emma, and you know it!" Rebecca snapped. Without any warning, she took Emma's arm and lead her away from the noisy ball room and out into an empty hall. At least now they could hear eachother without having to shout over the loud orchestra music.

" Tell me, Emma. Why do you insist on punishing yourself?" she asked, concern filling her deep brown eyes. Emma couldn't answer. She could only look ashamed in response. Rebecca sighed, sitting down in an empty chair, pulling Emma down to do the same. " All these years, and not a single word of truth..." she sighed. " Emma, you've lied to yourself for far too long," she said, watching Emma's eyes widen. " Tonight doesn't have you be your last night of freedom...because you are still a free woman, Emma. You can still chose the course you take..."

" But, Rebecca..." Emma began, only to be silenced by her friend's lifted hand.

" It was you who taught me that, Emma. To find your part in life and stick to it..."

Emma's eyes watered as she looked away once again. " That was before I made a horrible mistake, Rebecca."

Rebecca's eyebrows rose. " Nothing in your past could possible be justified by you marrying that horrible man in there, Emma." She took the woman's hand and squeezed it. " I want you to sit here and think. Really think. Is this what you want? This marriage with Owen...? It will undoubtedly last for the rest of your life." She stood, watching Emma's clouded eyes. " I'll be waiting for your answer, Emma. But don't return to the ball room until you have one."

Emma would have spoken, but her heart was so heavy that her lips couldn't form any words. She could only look frail and empty while tears formed in her eyes.

She felt so helpless and alone before. But now, after hearing her dear friend's words, she felt an odd sense of hope. Could she really move on with her life without marrying Owen? Surely her mother would disapprove...but did that really matter? It was the rest of her life she was talking about!

With a clouded mind, she stood and slowly walked down the long corridor to a set of French doors. She opened them, wincing as the harsh cold air from outside stung her pale white skin. She gingerly stepped out, shutting the door quietly behind her. Her heals clicked against the cobblestones as she made her way across the veranda to a stone railing. She leaned against it, forgetting the cold air that surrounded her, forgetting the beautiful music that seeped through the thick walls of the mansion and out into the night air, forgetting every detail of Owen's face...

Right now...was forever.

She had to decide.

Her eyes shut tight as the wind blew against her face, sending her back into the recesses of her mind...


---Flashback---

The dark, handsome captain stood beside the counter with a fresh green apple in his hand and a smug look on his face. " I was only sayin' that ya should have checked to see if the door was open before ya undressed, luv."

Emma's face reddened once again at the captain's words. " Well...that door is so old and rickety...it opens almost every time the ship moves! You should have known that before you came prancing down the stairs like that!"

He winked. " I know."


Emma laid in her bed, intently staring at the wooden beams above her. She couldn't sleep. All she could think about was the charming and humorous captain. He haunted her every thought, causing it hard to breathe at times. A soft smile spread across her lips as she realized she didn't mind that breathless feeling at all.

Little did she know that the Captain was thinking along the same lines a few floors above her.


She stretched and yawned as she felt the sunlight warm her skin. She rolled over and sighed as she felt something rough against her nose. Opening an eye, she found a piece of paper on her pillow.

' I fixed yer door, luv. You really should learn to cover up more when ya sleep.'

Emma read the note twice and grinned. That horrible Peeping Tom! A laugh poured from her lips as she realized she actually found it amusing.


The horrid pot wouldn't be cleaned! She had scrubbed the bottom of it for over an hour now, and she had gotten no where with it. She sighed, attacking it with the last ounce of strength left in her arms. Any more of this, and she might not be able to lift anything for a week.

Looking down a few moments later, she noticed that she had, surprisingly, not made anymore progress. The bottom was still just as black and crusted as it had been when she started out.

Before exhausting frustration could set in, however, she felt a smooth hand glide down her soapy arm to cover her hand inside the dirty pot. A warm body was suddenly pressed against her back as the other hand was gently placed against her shoulder.

" Allow me, luv," came the more than welcome voice. Emma turned slightly to see him standing beside her with an amused expression on his face. " You're doing it all wrong, luv. You 'ave to put the right amount of energy and love into it to get it clean." he explained, taking the dish rag from her pruned white hand. " Jist don't tell the men I know about it..." he added with a raised hand.

" Energy and love?" Emma asked, arching an eyebrow.

Jack nodded, taking her hand in his. " Like this..." he said, guiding her hand back into the pot and holding it as he stroked the bottom of the large pan. A smile spread across his lips as he felt the black crust flaking off the bottom of the pot.

" See?" he asked, triumphantly, turning his head to see her. His stomach flipped, however, when he saw her eyes fixed on him. She hadn't even been paying attention to his ministrations, for she was far too enraptured by his presence. His hand on hers, his body pressed against her side, his beard tickling her ear. Ever since that night on the upper deck, she had been intoxicated by him.

Jack read her thoughts as he gazed down into her eyes and felt his entire insides shiver. Clearly, she had gained a stronger attraction for him in the past few days. He was even beginning to think that he could actually kiss her... No. He couldn't. Not now... Not so soon... But her lips looked so soft and compelling...They were so close...If he could only touch them but for a moment!

" Jack," she whispered, jerking him from his thoughts. His eyes widened with concentration as she stared up at him intensely. " I... I don't want to go home..." she whispered.

A second passed before her words could settle in his mind. As it sank in, he felt his eyelids shut tightly in relief. She wanted to stay. He didn't think he could have ever let her go...

He looked down into her big round eyes and squeezed her hand inside the water-filled pot. " I wouldn't 'ave it any other way, Emma..."

" Captain!" a voice shouted from up the stairs. " We've reached Tortuga!"

" Alright!" he hollered back. " I'll be up in a minute!"

" Aye, captain!"

Jack turned his gaze back to Emma and smiled softly. " If you 'ave any second thoughts, Emma...Tortuga is the last place to 'ave them. There's only one way home, luv...and this is it."

Her dry hand came up to embrace the side of his face. " I won't..."


Jack grinned as he entered his favorite port on the whole entire earth. Tortuga. Rum, women ( which of course was lower on the list than usual now), and of course rum!

He had Emma plastered to his side with a frightened look on her face as they neared the Faithful Bride.

" Just where is it you plan on taking me, Jack?" she asked as they passed a few scantily dressed women sitting on an open window sill.

" Hello, Jack!" one of them called with a slight giggle.

Emma froze, causing Jack to do the same. He turned to look at her innocently. " What is it, luv?"

" Who is she?" she asked, motioning to the slutty woman behind them.

" Oh her...she's...an old friend," he said, quickly turning back to the road. Emma sighed and followed.

However, it wasn't long before three other 'old friends' came along, and Emma was beginning to wonder what she was getting herself into.

" Of course," she thought. " He's a pirate. Why wouldn't he indulge himself in such wicked things?" She glanced to another hag that waved at Jack and giggled. With concern filling her eyes, she wondered if Jack could ever really love her...was it just an act?

" Here we are, luv," he said, stepping up to the Faithful Bride.

" What is this place?" she asked quietly, staring at the noisy tavern with wide eyes.

He looked at her incredulously. " It's a pub, luv."

" Jack!" she gasped, stepping back. " I hope you don't think I'd drink any of that vile liquor!"

His eyebrows arched. " And why not?" he asked, somewhat offended. " Yer a member aboard me ship, luv...which so 'appens to be a pirate ship. Therefore making you ...a pirate... Is that not also wicked?" he asked, animating his words with his characteristic hand motions.

Every ounce of morals she had been taught as a child came leaping out at her at once and she glared. " I will not go inside, Jack. You---you'll just have to go without me...and...and..." she gave him a suggestive look before saying, " --and meet all those 'old friends' that you've been away from for so long!"

She stomped away, not missing the shocked look that spread across Jack's face. He didn't thinkthat wouldhappen. But then again, he hadn't been thinking. Emma was a first class noble woman with nothing but proper manneristic hub-ubs in her veins. Bringing her to such a place before she could even become accustomed to him was probably not the wisest thing he'd ever done...

With a sigh, he gave one last lustful look to the Faithful Bride and followed after the retreating Emma Wickerson.


She wasn't quite sure where anything was in that horrid port, but she did know where the Black Pearl was. So that's where she was headed.

Ignoring the wolfish calls and obscene remarks she received from drunken sailors she passed, she finally made her way back to the seemingly deserted docks. Sighing with frustration, she mentally kicked herself for behaving so harshly. She should have known better than to judge Jack like that.

A man could change. He could leave all the women and liquor if he really loved a woman...

But then... wasn't women and liquor part of being a pirate?

Emma's brow furrowed in thought as she pondered this.

It was too late, however, before she noticed someone coming out of the shadows to grab her by the arm, silencing her with a pistol to her brow.

" Come with me, senorita. Into that cave over there. Quickly!"


Jack had seen the man dart out of the shadows and grab Emma, but before he could say anything, she was being dragged away into an empty storage cave. With another sigh, he followed quickly, stopping abruptly when he entered the shallow cave.

" Well...if it isn't Captain Sparrow," came a raspy voice from atop one of the crates.

He looked up to see a Spanish pirate holding a pistol to Emma's head.

" Don't tell me that you and 'er 'ave been 'aving relations now..." he said with an evil chuckle.

" That's none of yer business, mate!" Jack snapped, eyeing Emma who looked frantic. " What is it ya want with her? You steal me gold a few years back and then ya take me girl. What next?"

The Spaniard's wicked grin grew ten sizes as he reached behind him, pulling out a large sack, filled to the top with gold coins. He thrust it to the ground and looked back at Jack.

" Make yer choice, Sparrow...the gold or the girl..."


" How could you?" She finally muttered. " How could you?"

" Emma, you have to believe me, luv. I was only----"

" Only what, Jack? You couldn't decide which one would serve you better? Is that it?" She stepped down from the crate and stomped up to the captain, fury pouring from every fiber of her being. " I thought that you...that you...CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow could actually...actually..." Her voice broke and tears streamed down her red face.

Sparrow, with concern , brought his black-stained hand to her cheek, wiping away a salty tear. " Tell me, Emma," he said softly. "What did ya think I could do, luv?"

Emma slapped his hand away and looked up, locking gazes with the captain. It was in that moment that he honestly felt his heart rise and stomach sink. " I thought...that you, captain Jack Sparrow... could actually love..." And then she looked away, shame and embarrassment marring her noble features.

The captain just stood there, unsure of what to say. He was scared. He had no idea how to come to terms with the alien feelings that rushed over him at that moment. And because he once again hesitated, he had to pay the price.

" I want to go home..." she sobbed, turning away from the pirate. She held herself with trembling arms and sniffled as another sob wracked her frail body.

Jack looked at her in disbelief. " Emma, I---"

" Please, Mr. Sparrow," she said coldly, not making eye contact with him. " I want to go home...and never lay eyes on your black-hearted pirate body again."

Her words were like a sword to his heart, piercing him in ways he didn't even think were possible. " Emma, please---" He breathed again, trying to plead his forgiveness. She ignored him and quickly made her way through the darkening cave and out to the ship, leaving Jack by himself...alone...

---End Flashback---


The harsh wind against her face ceased and she opened her eyes, now tear- free as she looked out into the dark night air. She knew the truth now. She didn't have to keep torturing herself. She could move on...

And marrying Owen was not apart of it.

" Oh, Jack...if only you could be here now," she whispered, turning back to the mansion. She paused for a moment, realizing that she would now change the course of her future forever.

She didn't realize, however, that in that tiny fraction of a moment when she paused, she was a vision of absolute beauty. Her pale dress, lighted by the winter moon, seemed molded to her perfectly as she stood in the curtain of snowflakes that softly fell around her. Her pure white skin seemed heavenly as she looked to the sky for answers. Her piercing blue eyes were soft and dulled, making her almost a hallucination. But the moment was shattered when she reached for the double French doors...she was going back inside to tell Rebecca what she truly wanted... Her mission, however, was halted when she realised the French doors were locked.

And as Captain Jack Sparrow stood in the shadows of the large Wickerson Estate, he found himself utterly breathless.