The maid struggled to pin Elizabeth's hair in place as the young lady desperately craned her neck so she could see the main drive leading up to the house. Will should have been here by now and wondered what was keeping him? He was usually so punctual. She wasn't exactly worried about him, having seen from experience that he was more than capable of taking care of himself. She was just curious.

When she finally saw his unmistakeable form hurrying towards the house with a box tuck under his arm, a broad smile split her face. The usual feeling of joy she got from the mere sight of him welled up instantly. She really was luckier than any woman ever deserved to be.

Escaping the maid and her pins, she fled out the door and down the main staircase with as much decorum as she could muster. At the bottom she could see her father and his guest inspecting the blade Will had brought with favouring eyes. The recipient gave Will what were obviously words of praise. The young sword maker usually took great pleasure and pride in his work, praise being more welcome to him than nearly anything else. Yet he seemed a little disheartened today. Perhaps he was not satisfied with his work. The necessity for a few last minute adjustments could possibly explain his lateness.

She greeted her father and his guest quickly as she passed them, heading straight for her fiance.

"You're late, Will," she said brightly, "I had almost abandoned hope of you visiting me at all today."

"Forgive me," he said softly, hardly daring to look at her.

At once, she knew something was amiss. His speech, his manner, the paleness of his usually bright features - all spoke of some heavy burden on his shoulders which he was desperately trying to hide.

"What on earth's the matter?" she asked, lowering her voice so that they could not be overheard.

"It's nothing. Really," he responded too quickly with a most unconvincing shake of his head.

Elizabeth gave him a sharp look, "I thought that you of all people would know that I am neither an idiot, nor am I blind. Do you intend on keeping such secrets from me when we are married?"

It was a low blow, she knew. But if it would get him to share what was troubling him, it would be worth it.

"Is there some place we may talk quietly?" he asked with a sigh, resigned to the fact there would be no arguing with her.

A few minutes later they were sitting on a secluded bench in the garden of the Governor's mansion. Will pulled out the now rather crumpled letter from his pocket. Elizabeth read it once hurriedly and then again more slowly, trying to take in every meaning and nuance of the words.

"But your father's dead," she reasoned, at once giving the biggest objection to the letter's validity.

Will sighed as he stood and began pacing in front of her.

"We can't be sure of that," he protested, clearly in conflict with himself, "Barbossa said he had him tied to a cannon and thrown overboard, but by that time they were already unwittingly cursed and unable of dying. What if my father managed to escape? What if all this time he's been trapped on this place where the 'lost go to wait'?"

Elizabeth shook her head. She could understand Will's feelings. If it were her own father she would want to believe this letter more than anything in the world. But in this instance she had to be the voice of reason, warding him against doing anything rash.

"It seems strange don't you think that he chose to write now," she pointed out, "He would have been trapped wherever he is for near ten years."

"Perhaps he did not have freedom to write before," Will said, obviously having thought of solutions to the questions the letter posed, "He may have been a prisoner before and not long since managed to escape."

"Perhaps," she agreed cautiously, not wanting to extinguish his hopes entirely, "But if he wished you to find him as this note implies, why would he give you such poor directions?"

"I would guess that he is concerned that the note may fall into unwanted hands," Will explained as though it was fact, "He may be vulnerable to attack in his present position. Remember he does not know Barbossa is dead."

"Very well," Elizabeth replied, allowing him to continue his well thought out chain of reasoning, "Then who left the note under your door?"

Will finally stopped pacing.

"I don't know," he admitted softly, Elizabeth having come upon the only piece of the puzzle he hadn't been able to fit together.

There was a long silence.

"What do you intend to do?" she asked in soft tones, folding the note up carefully.

"Go and find him, of course."

She nodded with a sense of inevitability. She had expected nothing less from him. His fierce loyalty, care and devotion were some of the traits that made her love him so. And they had once saved her life.

"How do you expect to go about this?" she questioned, part of her resigned to the fact and part of her desperate for any means of stopping him going, "You have no clue as to what these words mean."

"No," he admitted, "But I'd wager that I know a man who would."

It took Elizabeth just a few moments to realise who he meant.

"Jack Sparrow?"

"He was a friend of my father's," Will explained, seeing her uncertainty, "If anyone could decipher them.....Besides, they may have some meaning to pirates which eludes you and I. And he is the only pirate I will ever trust."

"But you don't know where he is," she protested.

"I'll go to Tortuga," he said, making her aware of the plan he had already formed in the short while since he had received the letter, "The Black Pearl is a well known ship, and someone is bound to know her whereabouts. I will find him and this time I won't come back until I know what happened to my father."

'And how long will that take?', Elizabeth wondered with a little despair.

"Let me come with you," she asked, with only a small amount of hope he would agree.

He shook his head, "No."

"But, Will..."

"Absolutely not", he said more firmly this time.

"What would you have me do?" she said with angry frustration, tears beginning to burn her eyes, "Wait here like a good girl? Spend each day looking out to the ocean to see if you are returning? Fill my days with wondering if you are dead or not?"

He knelt down in front of her and took her hands, "I'd have you stay here and be safe."

She knew that was the reason he wouldn't let her go and it would be wrong indeed to be angry with him for caring about her safety, but she couldn't help feel a slight resentment towards him. Yes, this was his father they were talking about, but she was his fiance. Perhaps she had gotten too used to being the most important thing in his life.

"I know you want to help Elizabeth," he continued when she said nothing, "And you must realise that the thought of being parted from you...But if you were to come, I would spend my days and nights worrying about you to such an extent that I would end up getting us both killed."

He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. Not wanting them to part with the memory of bad feelings.

"Besides," he added, "It's bad luck to have a woman on board you know?"

She forced a smile too, still conflicted. Could she really do it? Stay here while he faced possible months of unknown dangers? What choice did she have.....

"That's my pirate", she said with soft affection.

"I will come back as soon as possible," he said solemnly, "Just promise me you will remain here and be safe."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"I promise", she swore, crossing her fingers where he could not see them.