A/N: It makes me both grateful and happy, when I see you leaving support. Thanks! It feels like we go through this journey of this story together. Hope you enjoy reading this story!
Uploaded: 19th January 2021
To all you Jack and Angelica shippers out there. This is for you.
Chapter XII
MARRIED AGAIN
Moonlight Serenade
Living one day, one afternoon, as if everything for a moment would appear normal. How a normal day, for them, had been like, this past decade.
Playing house.
Cloudy but airy climate that with a fresh breeze, makes it comfortable to spend time outside. Garden belonging to that house in London was much grander than this one, although back then, there were tons of staff working for their false family as well. Here, it is all Angelica's spending. Regardless, she is pleased with what she has achieved. It looks beautiful and reminds her of Spain, the little backyard the convent used to have. Not that she specifically needs to reminisce that particular place, of all. But Spain used to be home and be a place she will associate with home, probably for the rest of her life. Not alike living aboard a ship, though.
Not alike the homey feeling of being in Jack's presence.
Somewhere behind said person and daughter, she strolls. Cautious to that man, Jack. Admittedly, she did play him earlier that morning. No true guiltiness of doing so. But she does, slightly, feel uncomfortable to have him there. At the same time, she wants him nowhere else but at this precise spot. Beside her, or rather, in front of her. That way, she can keep that watchful look over him, savor the image of him playing around with their daughter.
How she runs around, a stick in her hand and Jack playing with her. Lifting her up in the air while she laughs hysterically until she cries of laughter. Him, smiling widely in happiness as he keeps her over his shoulder. Her endless questions and his endless patience to answer them all.
He is a wonderful father to Frances. An image Angelica always has known, but never dared to truly believe until she saw it, all those years ago in London. Dare to think that the two of them, one day would grow into the role of parenting.
Warmly, she eyes the two of them as if she is examining a piece of dessert.
Get a glimpse of that Jack she knows of. The man she loves, the man she misses. The man she cannot manage to let go off.
During the whole day, she has not even given the thought to this marquess. Not at all, actually.
Literally, she could have stayed inside her bedroom with Jack for all day, but that deep pain somewhere in the back of her mind refused to fully let go. The reminder of what harm he caused her, so on the refusal of letting him kiss her. In fear she may fall right back into that emotional heaviness, of understanding he is the one using her. That way, by getting her tiniest revenge back, she did feel as if she gathered some sort of hurt dignity back on track.
Even if she understands, that she probably did anything but it.
Because whenever he looks over his shoulder to her, there is that look that wants to pull her straight up to him. Thankfully, their daughter is present, chattering as if they are a united family again. Which confuses Angelica, because Jack seemingly acts upon it as well. How he plays with Frances and tries to involve Angelica in it.
A moment when he is pressing Angelica down into the grass and lets Frances tickle her, until everything faded upon Jack's intent stare-down. And she for the briefest moment wondered if he would lean down and kiss her.
Inside he had spent a good deal of the early afternoon with Frances inside a library room, reading together. Frances had been sitting in his lap as Jack held the book in front of their daughter. Together they browsed it and Frances would ask all the questions about the drawings in it. Without anybody detecting her, Angelica had lurked by the ajar door to catch the heartwarming sight of them. She does miss him in the house. She misses all of him. But that will be something she never will admit. Particularly not to him.
So here she goes, towards that little pond in the garden as she brushes her clothing from any grass, while viewing Frances feeding the ducks with seeds. Jack, acting more posed than he really is, as she can see how he only pretends not being scared of the birds. He definitely is.
However there is one thing she detects; the sight of her daughter and Jack whispering to each other and carefully throwing a glance in her direction. As if they are working in collusion.
Always plotting against her.
Because soon, she sees that familiar look in his eyes when he notices her stare. Like he wants to play with her. But as quickly as she saw it, he and Frances return to feed the birds.
His tryout of acting all heroic causes her to at last roll her eyes, yet finds herself doing so by amusement rather than annoyance.
"Now, what are you smiling at?"
She shakes her head at him, but her genuine smile remains.
"You're such a chicken, Jack, you know that?"
He gestures for her to take the seeds from the bag he holds. "Why don't you feed them then?"
But when she is about to grab it, he removes it and in the unintentional circle they make around each other, she is the one losing her balance and falls headlong down into the pond.
Of course. That was definitely what this annoying former husband of hers had in mind all along. Specifically as she feels how he suddenly is in there with her, pulling her up as if he would be needed to save her.
"Mother?!" Frances lets out, quite bad acting.
Fumingly, Angelica looks to Jack. "Let go of me."
"Love, the pond was built for the ducks."
She stomps back up from the pond and releases herself from his hold. "And I'm sure guillotine was built for Sparrows."
Finding her comeback nothing but funny, he joins her and grabs her again, to end up in her face.
She reacts to his sudden touchiness and in the corner of her eyes, she can notify her daughter intently viewing them. So on, Angelica has absolutely no outer longing into appearing any intimate with him. Nevertheless, that does not go for her inner longing. So to speak.
"Then perhaps that Sparrow may need some Teach-ing, aye," he smirks and leans towards her ear, but has his lips brushing against her cheek.
Such a flirt.
Undeniably, hot... So charming. Dear, she just wants to kiss those lips. Well her body wants to, her heart wants to. But her mind screams no. Thankfully, acting more logical to the situation. If she gives in to her urges, she will face nothing but hurt. He will run her over just like he has done these past months. She is worth nothing for him.
What she did earlier today was a good thing. She put him right onto the spot. Having him physically pained by consequences of his behavior.
Just get a grip around yourself, Angelica. For damn's sake!
"Don't hurt the birds," Frances eyes them, frowning to them as if she cannot quite puzzle their metaphors. Yet they do not step away from this closer position of each other. As if there is an invisible pull to that other one, magnetically drawing them together.
It surprises her. Does Jack try to seduce her or something? Does he really think he can bed her and get back at her for what she did to him earlier?
Surely, he believes so. This is Jack, after all. The man with the widest ego.
"Well, I need to get changed," she then confirms in need of an excuse to get away from him.
Again, that wary eye from Frances comes after a discreet shared glance with Jack. Her own precious daughter stops her. Clearly, another plan in her mind. Obviously, the girl has no idea of the true intentions behind this. All that she probably knows, is that this is what her father, Jack, wants her to do. And so, loyally, she thinks of this as nothing but a mere game.
A game that Angelica really does not want to play.
"Mami," ah, there her sweet nickname is.
Why does everyone have different nicknames to Angelica? Trying to soften her until she obliges to whatever the person wishes to hand her. As for now, her daughter's statement.
"You will need help to get out of that dress, won't you?"
With Angelica's stunned look, she even misses Jack's smug eye, pride for his daughter as she goes on.
"Those knots must be untied and... Grace is at the market square."
Oh, Angelica can see where this is going. Because Grace assisted that last part by the breakfast before Jack arrived. When Angelica stood by a mirror and adjusted the last of herself, acting almost desperate to have herself put together before his entrance.
God, how pathetic is she?
"Wouldn't want to have you catch a cold," Jack joins Frances's persuasion.
Right. He does not want her to catch a cold? More like he wants any chance he can to undress her, now also having their angelic daughter innocently joining his mischief of working himself back into the upper hand against Angelica.
She defies him by addressing her daughter.
"In that case, come mi'ja and help me out of it."
Carefully Frances shares a glance with Jack and gives the impression as if she tries to speak a line she has been memorizing.
"But I don't know how to untie such a knot."
Yes, this is evidently Jack's work. Having their daughter act as a sidekick to his conniving ways of playing Angelica. Without her innocent jewel really knowing it. Probably she thinks of this as of nothing but a funny and quirky playful game her father is inventing.
Alright then.
Surrendering to the idea, Angelica begins to head back towards the house and Jack complies. Him jumping to the indication of joining her. Regardless, her former husband will need to get changed as well, seeing his soaking wet state as well. Because that idiot could not let her handle herself out of the pond. Any excuse to touch her.
Which opportunities he takes and she finds trouble not to enjoy.
Somewhere behind her he walks, confidently. Firmly she keeps their distance by her faster pace and quickly pulls out a particular drawer upon him entering her bedroom, again.
By the time he ends up behind her, she quickly spins around and shoves clothes into his stomach. It is his old ones he either just never brought with him upon his move, or she hiding them to be kept.
"Here."
Dear... why is he looking at her like this? With such... depth. Is he trying to manipulate her? When will he leave? He has got to leave. He cannot keep staring at her like this. That intently. With that emotion.
When he at last takes that step back and sets the clothing on her bed, she lets out her breath.
"What are you doing, Jack?"
"Spending time with my family."
"No," Angelica shakes her head. "You left this. Are you here today just to block me from seeing Leonard?"
It would not be too surprising if he chose not to acknowledge this. However his response makes her inwardly twist.
"Or what about me just seeing you?"
And she is sold.
It is seriously pathetic that she falls this easily for him. Always. He has divorced her and left her to shatter into pieces, and yet he can just give her the benefit of his eye, as for now. And she is back into the palm of his hand, craving him. No dignity at all.
Will she ever learn?
Unable to have this go on, she spins around and gestures for him to help her. Back against him, she swallows unsteadily and moves her hands to rest on her hips. In deep hope he will not try anything. Looking back at her weakness for him, she shamelessly has to admit her continuous surrendering to his tactics through her history.
"There's something I'd need to tell you," he speaks at the crook of her neck, over her shoulder.
Of course. Did she really think she could have him behind her back, without feeling his hands roaming her waist like this? Without sensing that seductive presence over her shoulder, his beard brushing against her neck?
She would lie if she described this to anything but causing her to inwardly crave him more.
"Yes?"
She looks at his forming expressions in a reflection of a mirror. But he never realizes he is watched by her, as if he is safe, as long as he keeps standing behind her back.
"This divorce..," he clears his throat. "It was never... aye..."
What is this? Jack finding it troublesome to speak?
What about their divorce? What is he trying to tell her?
With his last pull, her attire loosening, she has to keep her hands onto it in order to not have it fall off her body. In his hold, she turns around to face him.
Whatever he has to tell her, she is curious about it.
"Our divorce was never what, Jack?"
Deeply, quite painfully, he intently eyes her. As if he is holding something back, that he wishes to tell her. But for some reason, finds it hard to.
"There's a story," he begins. "Captain Hendrick Lucifer, said to have this... woman on an island. There was an issue, aye, and he had to create the rumor of facing the gallows by a port. His lady, nevertheless, intervened, stuck her neck out, literally, and fell victim to it under the command of a lord that hung her."
Confused, Angelica cannot quite understand why he would tell her this.
She shrugs, wondering if she is supposed to comment on it. "You can't blame a person in love to want to save their love, can you?"
Slowly, as if he comes to his terms, Jack eventually nods. "Aye, that's what I believe too."
What in the world is he talking about?
Surprising her to her core, he then takes a step back to grab his clothes on the bed and gestures for her to go on with her changing.
"I'll get changed in the guest room."
What is going on with him?
She cannot seem to get her grip around him. Unpredictable lovely, annoying man. That is what he is. Never knowing what she can expect of him.
As for now, when she was sure, that he with those penetrating eyes would try to bed her.
But no. Instead he leaves, after an odd story being told.
Confused she sees her door closing after him.
She hate to admit it, but she spends a lot of time in front of the mirror. Seemingly her makeup cannot be perfect enough, her cleavage cannot shape her bosom well enough and her waist cannot slim her enough. Whilst she surely has had a normal view of her appearance, this level is quite unlike her.
Awfully picky on her looks, yet she cannot stop combing her silky and fluffy dark hair.
From her nightstand she pulls out an opened bottle of liquor which she tastes. She needs something helpful before she faces Jack. That smell of rum in his aura at some point during a moment of anger, can cause her to make a face of disapproval. But today, she understands she has found that particular scent nothing but magnetic. Which scares her.
She just used him this morning to get back at him. But she is not ready to handle him backfiring her.
By the stair she stops tracks. Then why in the world has she prepared herself like crazy if that were the case?
Ugh, because she wants him to look at her like that...
In the dining room Frances is running around the table and Jack tries to catch her from the opposite side. Her daughter nearly runs into Angelica but they effectively dodge each other.
"Forgive me, Mother!" she shouts over her shoulder.
Jack however paralyzes across the room.
Yes, her effort of appearance has its effect. But now she is uncertain about how much she really wants this attention from him. It is like she is trying to balance what her mind and her heart want. Which are two different things. One wants Jack's love and the other one is perfectly fine with his dismissal.
As if he needs to say something in order to not appear enchanted by her, he gruntingly lets out, in an accusative tone.
"Missy here has stolen something from me."
"But I told you, Father, I don't have it anymore."
"Now where have you put it then?"
With Frances struggle to explain, Angelica can figure out what they are talking about. Her hand slides into an inside pocket of her skirt and she can feel the locket necklace in there.
"It's a secret!" Frances points out from across the table as Jack tries to catch her.
"Give it back to me, now, you little tricking caramel," and he leaps for her.
Hysterically, she begins to screamingly laugh as she is picked up in the air. Jack's free hand working to check her pockets while tickling her and causing her to end up crying out harder in her laughter.
Always the overly apprehensive one, Angelica speaks her mind. "Please, set my daughter down."
Just as Jack obediently sets Frances down, Grace appears, an envelope in her hand. Leonard's writing is all over it. Just as she is about to take it, Frances has run past her and grabbed in on her way.
"Hah, Mother!"
"Frances?" she warns her.
Duteously, Frances stops and smiles widely, holding the envelope out for Angelica.
With a warning eye, Angelica reaches for it but Frances leaps to run just as Angelica would take it. A motherly knowing of her daughter, it does not come as a surprise and Angelica is prepared to snatch her daughter into her arms, when Frances suddenly throws the envelope across the room.
"Catch, Father!"
Oh, dear.
Smoothly Jack catches it and smiles triumphantly, showing off the envelope as if in victory.
"This isn't from me, love."
That warning look she gave Frances is now directed to Jack.
"Because it's most likely from my fiancé."
Musingly, Jack inspects the closed envelope as he provokingly thinks aloud. "Then this could burn perfectly well in the fireplace."
"No!" Angelica throws herself after the envelope but also this time, as she is about to lay her hands on it, Jack has slid it across the long dining table to have it land right into Frances's hold, that smirks to her mother.
What are they... like, plotting against her again?
"Just give it to me, now," Angelica demands. "I need to read it before you..," and she tries yet again for Frances when the envelope is fetched to Jack. "Destroy it!"
"Ah," Jack smirks as he plays with it by a burning candle. "Wouldn't want that to happen, aye?"
Grace, carrying a tray of dinner, almost trips over by Angelica and Frances have a tug of war over the envelope. Catching the possible devastating scene of spilling soup across the room, Angelica must let go and has Frances escaping.
With the Teagues moving around the room like a playful, yet battling, family, Grace dodges them as gracefully as her name. Letting out a yelp in between having someone knocking into her attempts of setting the table and organizing dinner, she regardless never falls.
Angelica is everywhere, laying across the table, chairs turned upside down and even the chandelier hangs loosely above the table.
Whatever her date, her fiancé, has been writing, she wants to read it. It could be something important. Something about their wedding or literally, anything. She wants that letter inside that envelope.
However, she is outnumbered by these two.
Thinking differently, she suddenly feels the hold of Jack as he just has given Frances the envelope. With the instructions, "Burn that letter."
And Angelica exclaims in despair. "No!"
Her outburst, "No, Frances, don't!" is drowned by Jack's, "Go on, darling, burn it, aye!"
Both of her enemies behaving as if this is nothing but a fun game in their entertained mood. Meanwhile she is furious, but with Jack's fingers squeezing her ticklish sides, she ends up squirming in his hold and ends up laughing. Nevertheless, she is still mad.
"You!" and in her wriggling, she manages turning around and gets back at him, pulling in him when he returns the favor. "How dare you, bastardo irritante, como un..," she growls as she never understands in their playful fight, she is the one laid on the table with Jack hovering over her.
Uncontrollably she laughs as he pulls in her, but she keeps her irritated accusations thrown at him.
"You make my daughter disobedient, you demonio," she laughingly accuses him whilst he remains partly on top of her.
Enough to have her pressed down.
"You mean my daughter, aye," he teasingly corrects her. "There's me all over her."
"Don't flatter yourself."
"Don't fret," he suddenly charmingly eyes her down. "There can only be one of you."
Sensing the shift in the air, Angelica pulls in her breath uncomfortably. Regarding their position, she has not until now realized what absolute impropriety goes on. Suddenly she feels very naughty and intents to get up when he instead leans further down. His hand curls in her hair and she feels the approaching kiss nearing.
With his intent gaze wandering between her lustful eyes her waiting lips, she expectantly awaits his final surrender to just fully lean down already.
She wants him. She wants him to kiss her and she wants to indulge in him.
But he stops just by her lips and awaits her silent approval of this. Which she so wants to give him, but she hesitates.
She knows perfectly well what mistake she does by kissing him. But her heart aches for him and she shall give it to herself. The memorable satisfaction of indulging in him.
Stopping them abruptly from this hesitant shared desire, is that chirpy and impatient voice.
"Father, kiss her!"
As if bursting a bubble, Jack freezes and Angelica jerks out from her position to clumsily slide to the floor.
Too much in trance, her dreamy vision of kissing Jack, made her forget all about her daughter still being in there.
"Um..," she brushes herself from pretend-dust and hopes that fierce blushing is not too apparent.
Yet it must be, because Frances's quirked eyebrow is silently demanding Jack to take Angelica back into his hold.
"Let's have dinner," Angelica breathes and heads towards her chair. On her way, she takes Frances by surprise by snatching the envelope from her hands. Sulkily, she gasps.
Far away from, in particular, Jack, Angelica sits down. But still near her daughter.
Warily, Jack keeps eying her when he plops down on his chair. Somewhere in the corners of her eyes, Angelica can see both her daughter and Jack silently grimacing and gesturing a quiet conversation between them.
Well, their little try of whatever they just did, failed. Steadily breathing to calm herself down, Angelica at last gets to open this envelope.
Nosily, both of them are staring at her.
"What?" she asks without looking up from the letter.
"How do you do that?" Jack genuinely wonders. "You're not even seeing us past that lousy letter."
Lousy letter?
She sets the letter aside and dares to look at him.
Bitterness written all over him, Jack unsuccessfully hides it. "Prince Dukie wants to meet you or something?"
"He does," Angelica declares. "Since my lunch today was prevented, the invitation goes for tomorrow."
That look Jack gives her speaks of him knowing there is way more written in there, but Angelica has no obligation to tell him about it. Frankly, she does not want to. She would fear what he would do in case he found out. All about the besotted words Leonard uses of her. Describing her as the most dearest female he has encountered, totally smitten by her.
Honestly, she cannot come to conclusion of what goes on within Jack. Does he want her for real, or is it just his ego that has gotten a major punch? He wanted this divorce but acts as if she is the one moving on from their marriage, and not him.
"How awful," Frances complains and earns herself a disliking look from Angelica. But Frances ignores it and turns to her father. "Please, Father, can I be at your house tomorrow?"
That actually sounds alright with Angelica. Having some time alone with Leonard would do her quite well, even if it is rather... innocent, compared to a moment spent alone with Jack.
Awaiting his approving response, she expectantly looks to him.
Completely working against her ideas, he has clearly seen her intentions and pretends to disagree.
"My apologies, Franny-girl, but you're going to have to join your mother tomorrow. I have work to do."
Of course he would try to block her from being alone with Leonard.
"What work?" she inquiries.
He begins to eat and gestures for Frances to dig in as well.
"Work, love. Something you haven't done for years."
She gasps by his cheekiness. That man never ceases to amaze her!
Dear she wants to strangle him for saying that. For everything she has put up with.
She clears her throat and sneakily directs Frances, not precisely sure what she personally thinks of it, nevertheless eager to punch Jack. "Well, marrying someone makes a lady not have to," but she adds the following under her breath. "Unless he is a mere sailor."
As predicted, Jack cannot prevent himself and peers to her. Sneakily, she smirks into her glass.
"Wait," Frances intervenes and sets her glass down, leans forward and wears a frown. "Is Father saying that you used to work, Mother?"
Taken right on the spot, Angelica does not know how to recover from this.
"Not like that, mi'ja," she at last shakes her head and hopes this discussion is over with. She despises lying to her but it is for her own good.
Folding her arms gets Frances away. That she has no intention of letting this go.
"I've actually not heard much of your past."
Nervously, Angelica shares a glance with Jack,
"What would you possibly want to know about our boring lives?"
Curiously, Frances inspects them. "For starters, I've never heard how you met."
Jack begins to go for his rum. "For a reason, darling."
Angelica shoots him a warning look. He is not to give their nosy daughter any hints. That little girl cannot be given the finger or she will take the whole hand.
"What reason?"
Ah, how in the world can they make her nosiness go away now?
"He encountered me in Spain and brought me to the Caribbean, and then we moved to London, just as you were born."
The simple truth which withholds the juicy parts. Smoothly twisted reality to better fit what can be properly laid out for their daughter's ears.
"Really?" Frances is nothing but further intrigued and it disturbs Angelica.
In her motherly manner, she gestures to Frances plate. "Eat, Frances, before it gets cold, will you."
After the quickest bite, Frances leans forward again to meet her parents's eyes.
"Spain?" she thinks aloud. "What part of Spain?"
Without thinking twice, Jack leads Frances right onto the path they have worked so hard to cover. "Seville."
The tiny girl gasps and Angelica shoots him another look, more filled with worry rather than anger. Their daughter cannot know too much of them or else she may put two and two together. Seeing her odd interest in books and as for now, her current growing obsession of pirates.
"That's too interesting!" Frances squeals. "Just alike Blackbeard's daughter, whose name also is Angelica!"
Angelica fakes a cough and shakes her head. "That must just be a rumor, wouldn't it, Jack?"
Assuringly, he nods but drowns more rum.
"See," Angelica declares and continues to eat her food, in deep hope she can shut this subject. "Your father says it's false, so on it is."
Not completely buying her parents, Frances still sinks back into her chair and digs into her dinner.
"I read that Jack Sparrow and-."
"Captain," Jack corrects her and Angelica drops her fork in disbelief.
Has he gone mad?!
Oddly, Frances gives him a musing look, before correcting herself and tries again. "I read that Captain Jack Sparrow has been witnessed with Blackbeard's daughter, which name is Angelica and those would make the precise same names alike you two. Isn't that just such a coincidence?"
They just blink, numb of what to do. What to say.
"What are you implying?" Angelica at last frowns. So help her God if Frances is into them and realizes they are all a bunch of pirates.
Oblivious to their reaction, her daughter toothily grins. "Nothing. It's just a funny coincidence."
"Right," Angelica's tone is serious. "A funny coincidence, that's all."
"Oh, Mother, don't worry," Frances assures her. "I would never think you and Father would be of those criminals. Captain Jack Sparrow doesn't have a daughter. He's an infamous pirate and would never leave that Black Diamond he captains."
"Pearl, darling," Jack cannot help not correcting her again. "Name is; Black Pearl, aye."
Now, Frances inspects him for a longer moment before agreeing. "The Black Pearl," she corrects herself again as she remembers.
Jack frowns and uncorks a new bottle of rum.
"But isn't it such a coincidence still?" Frances still urges nosily.
"Common names," Jack states in his attempt of joining Angelica, to set punctuation to this topic. "Except for yours darling, who carries the best," he winks to Frances that beams proudly.
However what she says further, will take Angelica and Jack with such surprise they wonder just how far they had managed to take this lie.
"I suppose," Frances speaks after she swallows each bite of food. "The similarities of names were just too remarkable. But the two of you would never be pirates, I know that."
Jack sets his glass down and eyes her intriguingly. "You know that?" he repeats her questioningly.
"Yes," Frances declares. "The two of you would never have the guts to."
Lord, is she serious?
With that nonchalant look, it appears so.
Discreetly, Angelica shakes her head to Jack, to not go any further with this. No matter how that statement may trigger something in him, she firmly shuts his ideas right away.
His annoyed state of mind shall not make their secret bubble pop because of it.
"Besides," Frances goes on. "It would be horrible if we were criminals, wouldn't it? We could never live a life like this, if we were of those people."
Oh dear. So help her God if Frances ever finds out now.
Neither Angelica nor Jack can answer this. They just keep staring at her and try to keep themselves normal by eating their dinner.
"Aye," Jack gives her a questioning look. "You wouldn't like to be a pirate?"
Nonchalantly, Frances shrugs. "I did until I learned all pirates will hang."
"Who told you that?" Angelica demands.
Frances is done with her plate. "Your fiancé did."
Now both Jack and Angelica look back to her, awaiting what she has to say, regarding bringing Leonard into the conversation.
"What has this marquess-bloke said to you?" Jack wonders before Angelica can try to save her precious Leonard from being more blacklisted by Jack than he already is.
"That pirates are adventurous, an interesting phenomenon, yet ought to be hanged in order to rightfully have justice."
Leonard has said what to Frances?
Ugh, Angelica has known they have spoken a lot about pirates. But not that they spoke this much about them.
This is so inappropriate. Particularly as this girl so happens to be majorly related to pirates.
She can already see that murdering look in the corner of her eyes, coming from Jack. Dear, he will kill her for this. Accusing her for all she knows, by the fact she is responsible for bringing Leonard into Frances's life.
Knowing exactly what will come, she cannot stop him from shouting for Grace as the maid passes by in the hallway.
"Grace! Would you take Franny-girl to bed?"
Like every time their daughter disapproves, she begins her negotiation of ranting every selling sentence she can come up with.
For once, Angelica does not interfere in Jack's parenting. She knows that as soon as her daughter has kissed her goodnight and left their sight, Jack will be all over her with accusations. As if it her fault that her decent fiancé views the world differently than how she and Jack view it. As a non-criminal, he is a gentleman and obviously has the impressions of one.
She is right.
With Frances's goodnight, it takes them a mere second before she is backing with Jack after her, him in every way he can, trying to convince her of what a bad man her Leonard is.
This is nothing but a misunderstanding. Clearly, Leonard has just been looking out for Frances, like a normal nobleman would do. Normal people actually think of pirates as criminals that ought to be hanged.
"You're wrong, Jack. He's kind, he's gentle and he's..."
"Don't you see," Jack motions to the darkness of a hallway. "He's making our daughter think we are the bad out here."
Partly bought on it, Angelica cannot seem to grip where to disagree. "Yet we are criminals. We are the ones who pretend to play house, give her a normal life and that means her coming across normal impressions of the world. Even if they contradict ours."
"Angelica," Jack frowns. "What if he knows what you really are?"
That is not spoken with an accusative tone. But more with a worried one, as if he is looking out for her.
Dismissing such an idea right at once, Angelica does not take it seriously. Her Leonard would never know of this. There is not a chance in the world that he would put up with such an act. Not that well.
"Believe me, he doesn't."
"How can you know that?"
"I know him."
Even if he tries to not sound bitter, he really does. "Just like you thought you knew Salazar, aye? Or even your own fath-."
By pure impulse, she has grabbed a nearby fruit which she throws to knock him with. How utterly impudent of him to say that! Dragging her father into this.
"Or like I thought I knew you?"
He stops tracks and stares to her. Again, that vulnerable look which makes her just want to throw her arms around him.
What is going on with him?!
And what the hell is going on with her?! Why is she like this? He just insulted her and with THAT DAMNED look she is literally melting right on the spot. Dear, she has got to stop behaving like that young woman she once was, fragile in the arms of this... scumbag.
But why, tell her, is he looking at her like this? As if he really is worried for her, for some damned reason.
"Love," Jack suddenly speaks as he looks intently into her eyes, from afar. "You'd be careful, aye? With all of this."
This is that precise look that shoots her right into the core, weakening her. She must be pathetically weak for this man. It annoys her, yet she cannot control any of it.
"Are you referring to Leonard again?" she wonders.
He nods once. "I know you are..," he peers but not by accusation to her, which surprises her. "Smitten by him."
She can tell it takes a lot for him to say these words out loud. More to have him admit these words to himself. And she feels, oddly, immensely guilty to it all. To that painful frown he has.
"Mark my words, love, from what I've seen through Margareth, that family carries a lot of blood on their hands."
What is he implying? What does he want to be said? Leonard would never be able to do something bad. For one, he is, surely cocky, but truly gentle with her. He is fun, smart and playful. Polite and... never would he do anything bad, yes? However that Margareth is another case, right? She has always been obnoxious on parties. Never has Angelica liked that woman, not even before she knew she had laid her hands on her Jack.
"Thank you for the warning," she simply says.
But that worrisome look is still upon Jack as he looks at her.
"Aye," he gruntingly lets out before clearing his throat. "Even if you may not believe it," he begins to confess. "I want you to know I do care for your wellbeing, savvy?"
Unable to take that statement, she swallows and looks away. "I know."
Whenever he speaks confessions like that, she prefers avoiding his deep gaze. The one which can make her do anything in his presence.
Slowly, she tries to gather herself.
Her whole inner state grows dangerous whenever he is like this. Specifically when she knows what harm he can cause her. Yet she lets it all happen, over and over, again.
Contradicting herself in what she should do, she takes a deep breath and looks to him.
"Do you want to stay the night?"
He tries to force away an apparent amused eye and she must tear her quite shy gaze away from him. God, she hates how he makes her feel. Supposedly she hates all of him. At the same time, she cannot stop this horrendous magnetic pull to him. The crave for him never ceases.
Undeniably, she is as infatuated with him as ever. Which is something she hates with herself. That she is too weak when it comes to him. How she even in situations like these, when she is utterly hurt by what pain he has caused her and carrying this huge loathe for him within her - she still knows that if he kissed her, she would want it more than anything.
Just like when she declared her love for him, like five minutes after he literally made sure her father died. God, she is pathetic!
"Spend the night?"
"In the guest room," she explains and inwardly wants to kill herself for her obvious bad excuse for this sleepover. "It's getting late and..."
He smirks to her, probably seeing her through but she is thankful he never confronts her on that matter. Taking her all by surprise, he leans down and kisses her cheek.
Oh, dear, she will feel that kiss planted there for all eternity.
"Goodnight, love."
She swallows once as she pretends being unbothered by it, working that blush away. He must know what this little sweet gesture caused her, but she works feverishly to keep her posture straight and have him leave upstairs before she dares doing so as well.
That... lovely bastard. Those lips still burn on her cheek and she closes her eyes to relive his affection in her memory. That man is... annoyingly everything for her.
With her heart heavily aching, she knows that she is not going to head for her own bedroom. Somewhere, unconsciously, her legs bring her straight to the guest room. She is acting like there is an invisible pull that draws her to his room. And with her fast decisive steps, there must be.
Hot man of a damned curse, that is what he is.
"Now, who is the one not knocking?" he accuses her, shirt open to reveal his torso.
Oh God.
She closes the door after herself and quotes him. "Then I'd miss chances like these."
He smirks and so does she.
A senior sister, at the convent had once warned her about him upon their first encounter. 'That man will destroy your life, he's the most dangerous of types you can meet.' If she only knew how awfully right she was.
How lovely right she was.
Her entrance is so very predictable of her.
He looks smug, all handsome, hungry and that would not be for food. He will so avenge her for what she did earlier that day, now when they are alone. And how stupid is she not, who willingly walks into his trap like this?
Like she wants it. Like she cannot restrain herself from his presence. Like there is not anything that can stop her from seeing him.
Suddenly, she fetches him a metallic item and he catches it. It is the locket necklace. It takes a moment until he reacts upon it, understanding that Angelica supposedly should not have it, as he has secretly stolen it. From her.
His look reveals of his astonishment, surprised she has this one.
Puzzled he looks to her.
"How did you get it?"
How did she get it back? - The correct question should have been laid out.
She speaks forwardly. "Frances also tells me everything."
Sheepishly, he tries to grin but ends up smirking.
He quickly puts it inside his pocket, visibly in front of Angelica. No shame to steal it once more.
"Borrowed it."
"Without me knowing."
"And without intention of giving it back," he confesses.
For a moment she remains on her spot, staring at him and he shakes his head as if he is amused by her. That wry grin speaks so.
Truthfully, there is not a thing in the world she wants more, than him. So whatever sort of game he has tried to do, play her, use her, whatsoever, she would allow him that now. Because she understands, that there is not a thing in the world she wants more than this handsome bastard. This lovely scumbag, awfully wonderful desgraciado that drives her to insanity.
Directly eying her from his distance, he speaks from his heart and successfully has her wrapped around his finger.
"I will always love you, Angelica."
She can debate all she wants in the back of her mind. Trying to come up with logical reasons of probabilities, of how he simply wants to bed her. But with her broken heart just aching for him, there is truthfully not a confession she yearns for more than this particular one.
Slowly, she begins to make her way towards him.
Her whole aura screams of her desire of him to just lean down already. And he does.
Finally, at last, she can claim his lips. That jolt immediately shaking her inner, makes him aware of just precisely how long it was since he kissed her. Those delicate lips.
Tasting them as if she draws him more than the flavor of rum.
Practically, he is consuming her. With his hands roaming her and her possessive grip to keep him attached to her.
This time around, there is no such thing as built up aggression. Neither frustration, yet a sting of desperation linger. The needy urgency of indulge in the other one and never stop kissing during their tender lovemaking.
Gentleness in his motions bring them to savor this night for what it is. He is referring her as 'Mrs Sparrow' upon her blissful bubble of just meeting his satisfaction, with her very own confessions coming out in forms of moans, whimpering and that depth of hungry kissing.
Somewhere, in the back of Jack's mind, it truly annoys him that a woman has made this of him. A caring man, way more of a mule than he ever thought of himself. A ladies man, irritatingly lucky in life, legendary enough to have his dazzling name set in history books, his great love of The Pearl, but then Angelica bloody Teach came along and knocked him off his path. On so many occasions in the past, he tried shoving her away from his pathway, forbidding her to enter his world. However, here she is. And he lost.
It appears like a damn curse to understand he would literally do anything to this madly delicious woman. But nothing can be more truthful than that precise statement.
Deeper he kisses her when they reach it. So much intensity that they cannot stop making out, even when hours have passed. Nothing can seem to pop this bubble of just the two of them, indulging in the other one.
It is almost ridiculous how attached they are, all touchy and unable to keep away from the other one. As if they would be on their honeymoon, on a deserted island with nothing to do but to lustfully eat the other one up. Almost quite literally.
Tonight, he experiences the first night in an overly long time, when he sleeps heavily in peace. Frankly not prepared for tomorrow's challenges. Inevitable to face them, he gets yet another shift of ideas upon the early forenoon, soon after waking up.
He strokes her bare skin as she lays against him, sleeping graciously.
There is that line in the back of his head, telling him to tell her already. To let her know that he never stopped loving her and has no intentions of doing so either. But that he has signed something for her own sake and particularly, their daughter's.
Although he is too torn about the matter. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to her. Not this one. Not Angelica. Not his beloved Angelica.
If only he had not been into her this deeply. If he only had not fallen this heavily all those years back. Perhaps then he would have taken the risk of telling her.
But there is not a chance in the world he will endager her life.
He can how she begins to stir. Sleepily, she witnesses him getting dressed.
"Sparrow..."
Rarely she has mentioned his surname since they began this little adventure of playing house on this island. Whenever she so does though, she would typically put him in place for something he has done.
Lovely alluring goddess. There she lays, exposed back as she looks to him. He would be in denial if he tried to convince anybody that he does not want to just get back in there with her.
"Must join the invitation to spend noon at Margareth's house."
Aye, of course this does not sound too well in Angelica's ears. Seeing how they spend not only yesterday, but particularly, last night, together. Which was a long night, but oh, felt so short. Passed way too fast. He would have prolonged it if he could have stopped all clocks in the world.
"To call off the wedding, yes?"
Um, no. Because he wants no harm in Angelica's ways. Not that his hot-tempered woman ever would understand this. And she is not supposed to. She just has got to give him time to fix this.
By his expression, Angelica sits up and pulls her morning robe onto her, a face of accusation building up.
"We're not breaking things off with our respective?" she frowns, not believing what he says. "We slept last night and you still want to marry esa mujer detestable?"
Ah, angry 'Gelica. Whilst he can understand her, this is not negotiable. He. Will. Not. Have his nosy little sweetness intervening, lovely hotness, in the ways of risking getting harmed. Particularly not his daughter, either. This works best if he does this on his own. If he only made progress.
Which he will. Seeing Leonard-blokie has the necklace. How now that infernal man is involved in this. Does not come as a shock for him, seeing what idiot he is. Stealing Angelica like that. Convincing Franny-girl pirates shall be hanged.
All he needs is for Angelica to stay away from him, yet still avoid interfering in Jack's life either.
"I need time."
"How much time?"
"A month or two, aye."
"What?!"
"Aye, I promise I only need…"
"Something's telling me you're not moving back home this evening, am I right?"
Hopelessly, he takes a deep breath.
"I can't break things off with Margareth, as it were now, love."
Incredulously, she stares at him. As if she cannot believe him. "Eres el peor hombre que he conocido."
"Still don't speak that language, love."
Which was not popularly said of him. She motions towards the door.
"Get out," she demands.
"Ang..."
"I said, get out!" she begins to shove him out of there. "Get out of this house, estúpido pirata!"
And before he has a chance to explain himself, the door is slammed into his face.
Heavily, Angelica leans against it. Why does she always let herself down like this? Falling victim to him, all headlong like this? For the slightest moment in belief they are it. Only to get every illusion of the two of them shattered into pieces.
Meanwhile she did everything this time just for cause of the moment. Somehow, she knew all along he would leave her this morning. But she is, embarrassingly enough, quite sure she regardlessly would have kissed him if he so beforehand had told her about it. She would have still wanted to be in his embrace like she was, make out like they did, feel his body against hers like she did, no matter how much she would have known of his coming departure.
Ugh, she is such a sucker for Jack bastard Sparrow. Evidently, he can literally treat her however he likes and she still never stops to love him.
A knock on the door causes her to jump.
And she knows, that even if she just threw Jack out, she would probably just pull him back towards her right at once.
Yes, that is how little dignity she has in his presence.
She throws the door open and is just about to direct him when she sees...
Frances?
"Weren't we supposed to go to the marquess's house about... now?"
What? Where is Jack?
Angelica looks down the hallway. Of course - he did leave.
She tries not to look that upset and instead makes an effort into forcing a smile to appear. At least in front of her daughter.
Right, that lunch it was.
Nodding, Angelica takes the moment to gather herself.
"I just need to get changed first."
Thinking she has done everything as smoothly as she possibly can, covering up the nightly incident, lovely incident, Angelica notices she is mistaken moments later when she sits in the carriage.
"Why were you sleeping in the guest room?"
When she turns to look at Frances, her daughter is wearing a look of nosiness. Intriguingly as if Angelica holds the greatest secret, her daughter's big eyes take her in.
Before Angelica even has a chance to reply, Frances is shooting her with the next one.
"And why, tell me, did I have to go bed right after we spoke about pirates?"
Again, her mother has no chance of answering before Frances is too eager with her following one.
"That happened last time too. I'm not stupid, Mother. You're trying to hide something from me."
For a third time when her mother is about to open her mouth, the carriage has pulled up in front of Leonard's house.
How fortunate her mother is. She knows her mother sometimes squirms just like that when she is uncomfortable answering Frances's questions. Precisely like she just did. Which means, Frances is onto something. A secret her mother is trying to cover up. Now what that possibly can be.
But Leonard's butler saves Angelica as he opens the carriage door and Frances has to leave, first.
"I will hold the questions, Mother," she assures her. Firm to have them answered.
Nervously, her mother scans the area around them as if it is important nobody can hear her. Silently she whispers to Frances.
"But don't bring them up until we are home, yes?"
Why does she act as if this is some secret game? However Frances likes it.
"I promise," she widely smiles.
Leonard is fast to encounter them in the foyer. Specifically her mother which this man seemingly cannot keep his hands away from. When he finally detects Frances, he winks to her.
"Good day, My Lady."
She beams with pride. Whenever he calls her that, she feels like a grown up. As if for once, someone takes her seriously. Perhaps her own parents could take a hint! Her father keeps treating her like a baby and so does her mother. They are acting all the time like she is too young to grown-up conversations and even if they think they are smooth, Frances knows they are all secretive. She can see those shared glances her parents give each other when they think she does not notice. Those pretended coughs and her father's nosy questions that he thinks are not obvious.
They are hiding something from her. As much is clear. Question is just... what?
What do they take her for, a child? She is actually a decade old. A decade! How dare they treat her as if she is a baby?
"Good day, Marquess Stanford," she properly curtsies.
Further away, Angelica calls for Leonard, gesturing to an empty spot among all paintings on a wall.
"For how long, darling, will this one be repaired?"
Leonard smirks over his shoulder. "Just for a little longer, My Lady."
She smiles back to him. "I'm dying to see it."
He chuckles. "I bet. But it needs to be repaired before I can show it." Then he turns to Frances. "Are you hungry, little lady?"
She shakes her head. "Just had my morning tea and breakfast with Grace, I'm afraid."
"Ah..," Leonard ponders aloud. "Then why don't you join my butler," and he snatches his fingers for a nearby butler. "Who can show you the library where you can pick a book about those... adventurous pirates you like to read about?"
Somewhere further behind, she can see her mother's look of worry. But when Frances shines like a diamond, glimmering by delight and throws her arms around Leonard, exclaiming, "You are the best!" Angelica's tense shoulders soften and she beams to the sight.
Innocent little Frances, probably cannot just see the hidden coverup of being able to hang out with her mother, all alone, without Frances's prying eye. So instead, she is lead to this giant library, in company of this butler showing all of these books to her.
Picky, she actually has read the most of them. Shockingly. But there are a few options which she actually has not come across before. Such like this particular one, regarding that Jack Sparrow. Or Captain, as her father corrected her. Oddly, she seems to have books of all pirates in her own library, but not many with the name of Sparrow. Even if she has seen hundreds of books about him in lady school. Maybe her parents do not like him and never bought books majorly about him?
Inside the library, Frances stands. Eagerly searching for the pirate category.
Nosily, she notifies a painting standing on the floor, leaning against the wall as if it has been set down. That must be the painting, the one that has been repaired since forever, since the first time she visited this house. Happily she looks to the butler.
"Is this the painting that supposedly is being repaired?" she glimmers.
Over his shoulder, the butler throws a quick glance and nods, somewhere deeply into finding her a proper book among the shelves.
Carefully, Frances studies this painting.
A portrait of a decent looking boy, appearing to be around her very own age.
Frances tilts her head as she inspects the boy. "Who's that?"
The butler looks over his shoulder again.
"The Marquess's godson, Miss Teague."
His godson?
Slowly Frances approaches the painting to view him better. Indeed, a handsome looking boy.
She reads the tiny letters written on the golden frame, engraved in it.
"Peter Jr. Rothley."
Interrupting her, the butler offers her a book. "What about this one?"
A/N: Frances is my little darling. :-)