Chapter 10: Clothing Makes The Lady
The Captain left the cabin shortly after the conclusion of the unexpected negotiations, and Will escorted Elizabeth up to the deck to take the air. Harry dug down into the trunk of Spanish clothing and unearthed a long white satin sash. She spent some time tying it around her waist, getting the bow at the back just so, and studying the effect in the ornate mirror above the sideboard. She decided it would do, for the moment, and, after making sure her hair was securely pinned up, ventured forth to see the Black Pearl by daylight.
She climbed up the companionway steps and looked around. The ship was turning in a slow arc toward its new heading, and the crew was busy with the various tasks necessitated by this maneuver. No one paid much heed to her, although those that did see her politely nodded a greeting. Harry made her way out to the rail, choosing a spot where she would not impede the crew's activities, and looked out over the sea. There was a fresh breeze blowing, which tugged tendrils of hair loose around her face, and the sun sparkled on the white-capped waves. The breeze cooled the sun's warmth to exactly the right degree, and Harry basked in it, finding it utterly delightful after the last few days when she had been locked away in that small room with several other women, awaiting the auction. She had made friends with those ladies, of course, the distress of the present and fear of the future drawing them together as they might not have been under more usual circumstances. There had been Mary Hampton, a stout lady's maid, bluff and matter-of-fact; Emily Twining, a lady of her own age, but pale and drawn, with a tendency toward sudden tears; and Antoinette De Villiers, a French girl of Elizabeth's age, who had been on her way to be wedded to an official on Martinique when her ship was taken. Harry wondered where they all were now, and the contentment faded from her face thinking about it.
"Having second thoughts, Lady Fanshawe?"
She looked up at the Captain, a little startled that he had managed to approach her without her noticing, due to her abstraction. She straightened, and said, "Why no, not at all. I…was just thinking of…of some of the other ladies who were sold at the auction. The ones I was held with, you know."
He leaned on the rail next to her. "It's a hard truth that you can only do so much in this world. Best not to think about it too much."
"Yes, I know. One does the best one can, and that's all that can be expected, I suppose." She looked up at him, hesitating a little, but then asked bluntly, "Do you ever take women to be sold at the auction?"
"No."
"I thought you would not," she said, satisfaction in her voice.
"That's not to say I wouldn't hold one for ransom, mind. A dowager duchess would fetch a tidy sum, for example."
"Oh. But you wouldn't harm a lady, I think."
"Depends on what you mean by 'harm', don't it?" he said, eyes alight with mischief.
She pursed her lips, and shook her head at him, her own eyes twinkling with laughter.
He smiled down at her and said, "Come then, I'll show you around the ship."
She allowed him to tuck her hand in his arm and they walked slowly all around and down into the depths of the Pearl. He spoke about his ship all the while, in obviously loving detail, reintroducing her to various crewmembers as they came upon then, and answering her many questions, which he didn't seem to find entirely stupid, rather to her relief.
"You can have the run of the ship for the most part, but I'd prefer you stay out of the crew's quarters of course."
"It's very kind of you to give up your cabin to Elizabeth and me. The sacrifice is most appreciated! I don't think I've slept so well since I left England."
He smiled. "Well, it's not as great a sacrifice as you'd imagine. I'm still not altogether used to sleeping in a bed, and in such grand setting. For ten years the most I had was a berth, or a hammock, and some of the time it was just the deck and the stars."
"The deck and the stars," she repeated. "That sounds rather nice, actually. With maybe a blanket and several pillows, of course."
"Ah. And someone to keep you company, maybe?" he said, suggestively.
"Maybe," she agreed, a smile in her voice. "I feel sure Elizabeth would enjoy it, too."
"Oh," he said, and sounded so crestfallen that she had to laugh.
They had climbed the quarterdeck stairs and were approaching the poop deck when Owens popped up from where he'd been scraping paint and looked down at the two, intending to greet them.
"Owens!" said Jack, "Why didn't you serve at breakfast today? We missed you!"
But strangely, Owens' friendly expression had suddenly faded to shock as he looked at Harry. The boy grew quite pale, a crease forming between his brows.
"What ails you, boy?" asked Jack in surprise, looking from his Cabin Boy to the Dowager Duchess, who looked quite charmingly in the morning sunlight, he thought. Then something occurred to him and he turned back to Owens, frowning.
Owens began to babble, "I…it's nothing, sir! I'm sorry! Good morning to you and your lady…I…I have to go." And with that he pounded down the steps of the poop deck, quarter deck, and down into the bowels of the ship.
Harry looked up at Jack. "Do you know what all that was about?" she demanded, for she suspected from his expression that he did.
He had been watching Owens as the boy had run off, a frown on his face, and he said slowly, "I think maybe I do." He looked down at her. "He's only been with us since Santo Cristobal. Asked us to take him on, as his mum and dad had died in some plague a year ago and he'd been workin' for the Mayor's wife to earn his keep. Once we got him on the ship we found she'd been beatin' him pretty regular—he was half covered with bruises, old and new. That's her dress you're wearing, and I think seein' it on you startled him a bit."
She stared at him. "She…and you…you gave me her dresses to wear?"
He frowned at her accusing tone. "Well, I didn't think it would…I expect he'll grow used to seein' you in them."
She stiffened. "No, you didn't think, did you? And no, he won't grow used to it!" And she turned and flounced off down the quarterdeck stairs, disappearing in the direction of his cabin.
He stared after her, half annoyed at being made to feel guilty for something he'd only meant to be a kindness, and half wondering what this most unusual representative of the aristocracy had it in her mind to do.
This was soon revealed. Less than an hour later she reappeared on deck, dressed in her old gown, and came up the stairs again. Owens, who had come back up to the poopdeck to resume his work after an apologetic nod to his Captain, looked over the railing at her and stared in surprise.
"Captain Sparrow," said Harry, formally, "I wonder if you could spare your Cabin Boy for a few minutes. I have need of him."
"Is that so, Lady Fanshawe?" said Jack. "And just why would that be?"
Harry sighed, exasperated. "I have a question to put to him, but it must be done in the cabin. If you'd be so kind?"
Jack looked at Owens, who was peering down at the Dowager Duchess, puzzled and a little suspicious. "Very well, Lady Fanshawe," said Jack. "But I'll come too, if you don't mind. Or even if you do."
She frowned. "There's no need for you to come!"
"Oh? And just what would you be wanting with my Cabin Boy that you need such privacy?"
Owens reddened at this comment, and Harry looked daggers at Jack. "What a thing to say! Very well, come then! If you please, Owens?"
Jack nodded to the boy, and Owens hesitantly rose and followed in Lady Fanshawe's wake. Jack came along behind them.
When they reached the Captain's Cabin and went in, Owens stopped dead. "Lady…what's this?"
All of the senora'sdresses, some dozen in all, were laid out, covering every surface with bright color, texture, lace and ribbons.
"I understand that these dresses belonged to your former mistress, Owens. Is that not correct?" said Harry briskly.
"Aye, ma'am." Owens stared at the dresses, a few of them bringing to the surface memories he'd sooner have kept well-buried.
Harry, watching his expression, said gently, "I am very sorry to have upset you by wearing one this morning, but you may be sure I will not do so in future. But I wanted you to tell me, did you see her in all these dresses, or are there perhaps one or two which you never saw her wear? I would not put you through looking at them closely except that I have only this one dress to my name at the moment and it would be as well to have at least one more to change into, if possible. But I will not wear any that you have seen her in."
Owens stared at Lady Fanshawe. "Lady, you…you must not! Not for me! I…I'm sorry I…but you must not! The Captain gave these to you."
"Nevertheless, I won't wear any that you've seen the señora wear. And if you won't tell me if any are not included among those, I'll just pack the whole lot up again."
Owens turned to Jack, almost despairingly, but Jack shook his head.
"Just tell her what she wants to know, lad, and be quick about it."
Owens drew himself up, resigning himself, and walked around the room looking carefully at each dress. He finally pointed to two of the simpler ones, one of pale yellow with an embroidered bodice, the other of white with tiny pink flowers dotting the fine material. "She never wore these two, that I can remember. She liked the deeper colors. And then there's this one." The boy walked to the table where the gold brocade gown was laid out. "She'd just got this one from Spain, and hadn't had a chance to wear it yet, I think."
"So there are three!" said Harry. "This is most excellent. Four dresses are certainly enough for any lady, I vow. Thank you, Owens."
"But Lady Fanshawe!" said Owens, visibly upset, "You can't mean you won't wear the others! My mum…she would've given her eye teeth to wear any of 'em!"
Harry came up to the boy and took his hands. She said, rather ruefully, "My dear, I know I am sadly spoiled and do not value my beautiful things as much as I should, perhaps, but I assure you your mother would have felt exactly as I do about these dresses. Now, no more objections if you please. I have quite made up my mind. I shall keep the three, and pack up the others. Captain Sparrow can sell them when he gets the opportunity. They should fetch a good price, and perhaps the money could go to you as a sort of recompense." She cocked a slim brow at Jack.
"Aye, that's a good idea," said Jack, regarding the Dowager Duchess with a bemused smile.
She nodded, satisfied, and turned away to begin packing up the señora's dresses.
Jack grinned, and said to Owens, "Come on, lad. It appears we're dismissed from the Presence." He turned and ushered his Cabin Boy out the door.