Author's Note: Thanks for all the positive response, everyone! I hope I got everyone that asked to be on the list. I'll check again and make sure I added everyone. Oh, whoever said Jack didn't seem like he was "in character," could you be a little more specific? I do wanna make this as accurate as possible. Anyway, this next one is a very pivotal chapter, and kind of a cliffhanger, so I'll try not to leave you hangin' for too long. In the meantime, let me know what you think!
Chapter 6: The Jealous Suitor
The next morning was difficult at best. I never mentioned a word of what had happened the previous night to any of the crew, and I don't believe Captain Sparrow did either. Regardless, the Captain and I didn't say much to one another for most of the day. There is nothing I regret more than keeping silent that day, but I wasn't to discover my fate until several hours later. Fortunately there was plenty to do on deck to keep my mind off of things: the winds were unusually high, and extra care had to be taken to keep the ship on course. By late afternoon the winds stilled. We kept moving, but very slowly. Again some of the crew went below deck; Mr. Cotton's parrot perched itself atop the crow's nest and took to singing scrambled bits of old pirate songs to pass the time. Captain Sparrow stayed at the wheel, one hand lazily wrapped around the steering mechanism and the other resting on his hip. Anamaria and I sat by the starboard gunwale, untangling several lengths of rope that had gotten caught in the high breezes earlier that day. I cast more than a few would-be casual glances in the Captain's direction, and eventually Anamaria caught on.
"Not fallin' fer Jack Sparrow, are ye?" she asked with a chuckle.
I scolded myself silently for being so naïve and so incapable of masking my emotions.
"No!" I said, perhaps a little too decisively, "Of course not. . . What makes you say that?"
She just laughed and shook her head.
"O' course, yer not," she repeated ironically, "I won't tell a soul, don' worry. But I will say this: Jack's a good man, make no mistake of that. But he is a pirate, and his first love is the open ocean. Ye can't change that, Abby."
She stood up and brushed her skirt off, setting the coil of rope she'd been making back down on the deck.
"Although," she said, "Ye en't the first to try, and I can't say I blame ye. An' ye won't be the last either."
"I haven't admitted to anythin' yet," I reminded her, slightly annoyed, "You do realize that, don't you?"
Before she could reply Cotton's parrot came swooping down on us in a peculiar frenzy.
"Land ho! Land ho!" It squawked insistently, beating its blue wings over our heads.
"Cotton!" yelled Captain Sparrow, "Shut that bloody bird up or ye'll be addin' it to the menu tonight!"
Mr. Cotton gave the Captain a reproachful look and coaxed the parrot to its spot on his shoulder, where it quieted immediately. He glanced over the stern and suddenly a look of shocked anxiety came over his face. He looked back and waved me over to him frantically. I went over to the stern and followed his gaze. There was a dark, nebulous shape just below the horizon in the north. I squinted at the shape; there, unmistakably, was the mast of another ship. And it was getting closer. My eyes widened.
"Captain!" I called.
I heard his footsteps behind me but I kept my eyes glued on the ship; I didn't want to lose it. I pointed when I sensed him beside me and he whipped out his telescope. He was silent for a long time. I glanced over at him cautiously, but his face was stony and completely unreadable.
"Abby, darling," he said finally, "There is but one sort of man that can match a pirate for both madness and ruthless determination."
He folded the telescope without taking his eyes off the ship.
"What sort of man is that?" I asked slowly.
"A jealous suitor," he said, handing me the telescope.
I put the telescope to my eye and found the ship. I couldn't make out any faces on board, but I recognized the flag: it was the crest of one of my old suitors, one of the Narcissistic ones. He had seemed particularly crestfallen at my rejection, and had taken it as a personal insult. As he'd left the house I had heard him mutter something under his breath. It had sounded like, "You'll regret this," but I had dismissed that idea as absurd at the time. His name was Covington.
"I can't believe it," I murmured, lowering the telescope, "He's come after me."
Captain Sparrow took back the telescope as I continued to stare at the ship in disbelief.
"Your doubts were in vain, love," he said, "It appears you've been missed after all."
He stalked back up to the bow, shouting orders as he went: we were going to row.
"Come on," said Anamaria, leading me below deck to the oars.
"This is the fastest ship in the Atlantic," I said, half to myself, "You said so yourself. They'll never catch us. Will they?"
"Quiet Abby!" said Anamaria, "This en't the time for questions. Sit there."
She pointed to a long bench on the port side of the hull equipped with a long-handled oar. I sat and gripped the handle with both hands, gazing up and down the row of similar benches in front of and behind me on both sides. I had never rowed before; I wondered uneasily if I would be able to keep up. Suddenly the others started moving. I focused on matching the sailor in front of me with every motion I made. Gradually our speed increased, and the ship was gliding smoothly through the waters. We kept rowing, and my shoulders began to ache with the effort of sweeping my oar back over and over again. I wished I could see what was going on outside; I had no idea if Covington's ship was still gaining on us.
Suddenly we stopped. Mr. Gibbs' voice came down from the stairs at the hatch.
"All hands on deck!" he called, "Everyone get back up here!"
There was a confused exodus as everyone clamored toward the stairs.
"Not you, Abby," he said when saw me, "Ye keep hidden – don' want the other sailors to see ye."
"What?" I asked, outraged, "But I could bargain with him! That's not fair!"
But the last of the crew had already gone through the hatch and closed it behind them. I groaned loudly in my annoyance, then ran off to a smaller room below with a grated covering through which I would be able to hear conversations on deck. I pulled a chair directly under the grating and stood on top of it to get the best vantage point possible. I heard odd mutterings from the crew, mostly just inquiries about what was happening, but then the Captain's voice came through the grate clearly.
"Aye, we saw a girl o' that description some weeks ago," he was saying, "Back in Paris, wasn't it?"
There was an affirmative rumble from the crew. And then I heard a different voice, a voice I hadn't heard for many years, and had hoped not to hear again.
"Don't dare lie to me, pirate," said Covington, his tone cold and unforgiving, "I've seen her aboard this very ship. Last night, as a matter of fact, and with several witnesses."
"Are you quite sure you aren't mistaken? All of my crew stands before you – this elusive mistress of yours must have been a dream, or a hallucination at best."
I heard the cocking of a pistol.
"I said don't lie!" yelled Covington, "I've tracked this ship all the way from London – I assure you my Abigail is aboard. Now where are you hiding her?"
His Abigail? I thought with disgust, Of all the nerve!
I could tell from his tone that Covington thought I had been kidnapped, and that the pirates were keeping me for a ransom of some sort.
"I will say this one time and one time only," said Covington, "If you do not surrender the girl, I will take this ship by force and I will see everyone on it hanged. You have no choice, pirate. Where is she?"
There was a tense silence after that, and I heard movement on deck. Then the Captain's voice came through again, much quieter. He must have been standing just over the grate so that only Covington could hear him.
"If I were to produce the girl," he said slowly, "Would I have your word that none else aboard this ship will be harmed by any force of the law by land or by sea?"
"I can speak only for myself," said Covington, "But yes, I will not divulge any information concerning your whereabouts to anyone I meet, by land or by sea."
"Very good."
Then the Captain raised his voice.
"Mr. Gibbs!" he called, "Bring forth the hostage."
My mouth dropped open in horror; that dirty, lying scoundrel! He was actually going to turn me in! I wasted no time in getting back to my bunk and packing my things. I stashed all my goods, my clothes, a few coins, and a small store of food as before into my knapsack. Just as I was making to leave the room, my gaze fell upon the ivory dagger at the foot of my bed. I hesitated only an instant, and then grabbed the dagger and thrust it under the edge of my belt. I left the room and ran straight into Mr. Gibbs.
"Stay away!" I yelled, staggering away from him frantically, "I won't go back! I won't!"
"Come now, Abby," he said, starting in towards me.
"No!" I screamed, and I took a swipe at him.
He caught my arm easily and soon I was completely incapacitated. Mr. Gibbs led me upstairs by the shoulders.
"Calm down, miss," he told me gently, "I haven't a clue what the Captain's plannin', but he won' give ye up. He'd never sacrifice a member of his own crew."
So I went through the hatch quietly, and when I emerged I found myself face to face with Germaine Covington for the first time in nearly three years. His face was smooth and finely chiseled, and his eyes were shockingly blue. His black hair was combed neatly down both sides and shone with an unnaturally bright gleam in the afternoon sun. He moved toward me immediately, his pale face drawn with what seemed to be genuine concern.
"Is everything all right, my dear?" he asked, taking both my hands in his, "What have they done to you? Oh, when I heard you'd been taken by pirates, I feared the worst."
I pushed him away roughly.
"I wasn't taken, you great oaf," I said coldly, "I ran away."
"And look at the good it's done you," he said patronizingly, "Come now, Abigail, it's time to come home."
I glanced back at the crew desperately. Captain Sparrow met my gaze with cold indifference. I knew what he was thinking: I had told him I wouldn't be followed, and I was wrong. Perhaps this was his way of punishing me for endangering his crew, however unwillingly. I looked to Anamaria; her face was set, expressionless. I felt a deep well of miserable disbelief rise up inside me. Covington draped a heavy arm around my shoulders and drew me to his side.
"Our agreement, sir?" said Captain Sparrow.
"I'll not speak a word," said Covington.
"Good. Now remove yourself from my ship, and pray I don't change me mind."
With that, Covington and his men loaded me onto a rowboat and took me back to their own ship. I sat in stunned silence, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Covington's ship must have caught us in spite of our efforts, and then naturally a correspondence had to be made and an agreement reached. But then why had the Captain bothered hiding me below if he had only intended to turn me in afterwards? I couldn't understand it. What was worse, my knapsack had been lost in my short tussle with Mr. Gibbs, and I now had nothing to my name aside from the clothes on my back and the ivory knife. I refused to let myself shed a tear. After all, I reasoned, I had more right to be angry than anything else, and anger didn't call for tears. I should have felt betrayed, abandoned, cheated – some emotion that instilled a burning rage in me, something that would make me feel stronger. Instead I was heartbroken. I didn't say another word to Covington, and the moment I was alone in my cabin I threw myself down on the bed and wept bitterly for countless hours.