Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

Chapter Six - Disguise

Elizabeth Swann was angry - nay, furious. For the hundredth time, she
unfolded the tattered letter and read its contents. At certain passages,
she snorted and repeated the words scornfully aloud. "Dearest friend.
find it in your heart to forgive me. never worthy of you." Disgusted,
she tucked the letter back into her pack. "And absolutely obsessed with
Jack Sparrow. I might have known."

She had been stewing over the offending epistle for exactly six hours.
Now, with the sun down and the household asleep, it was time to take
action. In a neglected storage closet near the servants' quarters she
had amassed a cache of men's clothing. It had proven useful over the
years as a means of exploring the colony anonymously; the role of
governor's daughter was a tedious one at times. She liked to slip out of
it now and again.

Tiptoeing through the dark mansion, she stole into the closet and began
her transformation. First she outfitted herself as a poor but honest
young man, lately fallen upon hard times. Next, with the help of a
kitchen knife (she had failed to locate the shears), she dispensed with
several inches of her hair. This she tied into a knot, which she stuffed
unceremoniously down her breeches. In a cloth bundle, she had wrapped
most of her jewels, as well as a small dagger, inlaid at the hilt with
gold filigree. The latter was, of course, a gift presented by Will at
the time of their engagement. It would prove necessary, she feared - to
leave it behind would be folly. Still, it was too fine a weapon for a
humble boy such as herself to carry. To wear it openly would attract
unwelcome attention.

How could a man be so thickheaded, Elizabeth wondered as she crept out
the ballroom doors and made her way through the garden. How could he
know her well enough to give a dagger as a gift, and then leave her
behind while he set off in search of high adventure? Did he think her so
very attached to the life of a pampered porcelain doll? As for love, she
could do without it. That part had just sort of. happened, really. One
moment she was standing up to the British navy in defense of Jack
Sparrow; the next moment she was engaged to Will Turner. It never felt
quite right, that engagement, and she found herself relieved to be free
of it.

But she would not be left behind to stifle between the stays of a
corset! That sort of treachery she could not abide. She was determined
to leave Port Royale this very night, locate Will wherever he might be,
and give him the slap he so richly deserved. Leaving the Swann mansion
behind, she stole silently down the peaceful streets of Port Royale. It
was past midnight, and the only lights still burning were behind the
windows of the taverns. One or two groggy sailors passed her on their
way back to the harbor, hardly giving her a second glance. Yes, with her
height and her practiced masculine gait she could easily blend in among
them.

Reaching the water, she looked around for a likely target. She spied a
stout man leaning against a post at the end of a dock. Sporting an
unruly blonde beard, a belly that threatened to overspill his threadbare
trousers, and a generally worried expression, he looked sorely in need
of able hands. He'll do, Elizabeth thought. She walked up behind him and
cleared her throat, keeping her head humbly bowed. He turned, fixing her
with a wary gaze. "Aye? What is it? Speak, lad!"

"Please sir," she rasped, concealing her dulcet voice. "I've lost me
place 'ere in Port Royale. I wish to join a crew. If you could 'elp me,
I would be very much obliged. Sir."

"Lost your place, did ye," the man grumbled. "And how is that?"

"Me master, er, ate some bad chicken. He passed away Wednesday last, I'm
sorry to say, sir."

Raising one dubious, bushy eyebrow, the man looked Elizabeth up and
down. She shrank self-consciously back into the shadows, away from the
lantern swinging at the end of the dock. "All right, then. The name is
Captain George Higgins. I do find meself short a hand or two, come to
think. What did you say ye call yourself?"

"Turner," she replied, automatically.

Higgins blanched and took a step back, looking fearfully about him.
"That is an unlucky name on the high seas, as of late. Any relation to
the, er, blacksmith, are ye? A William Turner?"

Elizabeth struggled to keep her posture neutral. Her voice was steady as
she replied, "Oh no, sir. Diff'rent Turners. My people come by way of
Sussex. His are Cornish stock, I hear, and -"

"Fine." Higgins dismissed her explanation with a wave of one meaty hand.
"But ye may wish to work under another name, for a time. Now then, the
ship -"

Elizabeth risked an interruption. "Beggin' your pardon, sir, but is Mr.
Turner in some kind of trouble?"

Higgins moved closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. "There are
stories. I've heard tell of a man, known only as the Jamaican. He went
on account with the Black Pearl in Kingston just before they set off on
the Isla de Muerte raid. A young man he was; left behind a pretty wife
and three wee sons. Promised to return with treasure enough to change
their lives forever. It was not to be. He fell under the curse with the
rest of the crew - couldn't go back to his family that way. Couldn't
send them nothin', neither. Times grew lean for them, of course, and no
one was willin' help them out, on account of their pirate associations.

"Well, the Jamaican survived the curse. They say he hid in the cave
while the curse was lifted and his mates were slaughtered. Returned to
Kingston with armloads of treasure, like he promised, but it was too
late. His wife and sons starved to death eight years ago this month -
the very month young William Turner escaped the Black Pearl. If they'd
captured the boy and lifted the curse the first time, he might o' been
in time to save them. He plans to exact his revenge on Turner."

"You mean, kill him?"

"Nothin' so kind, I'm afraid. They say he wants to inflict one year of
torment for each of his wasted years - ten years of pain with no hope of
death." Higgins shrugged. "Then I suppose 'e'll kill the poor man."

Elizabeth nodded, willing her panic to subside. "Permission to come
aboard, then, sir?" she asked, after a moment.

Higgins inclined his head. "Eh? Oh yes. Granted."