Title: The Sea Nymph
Author: Rosie Rosen
Summary: Margaret Turner is obsessed with pirates. She loves her Uncle George's stories about Captain Jack Sparrow and his crew of miscreants. But that was ten years ago. Now, she couldn't care less about the old sea dog and is more interested in being a lady of high society. What happens when she has to find her Uncle George to save her parents… and is sent in the direction of the pirate village of Tortuga?
Chapter: Chapter Three; Elizabeth Turner
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Disney owns Pirates of the Caribbean and all its affiliates. I own Margaret Turner, Miss Bella, the Sea Nymph, and the plot. Plagiarists, ye be warned.
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Elizabeth Turner gingerly touched her narrow waist and took a deep breath. She refused to wear corsets, except on special occasions such as this one. She was giving a dinner party for all the people in the high circles of Port Royal; her father and his friends, William's friends and their wives, the Commodore…
Elizabeth sighed wistfully at the thought of Commodore Norrington. She had never been in love with him, and his view on pirates certainly didn't sit well with her, but she had always felt guilty about marrying William after promising herself to the Commodore. And he was handsome, in that older man sort of way. She had always admired him as a sailor and his morals were immaculate.
"The guests are arriving, darling," Will said softly, appearing behind Elizabeth. She startled and smiled at her husband.
"You frightened me, William!" Elizabeth took his arm and, walking into the entry-way, radiantly beamed at how sophisticated he looked wearing a hat she had picked out for him, instead of one those silly, impractical feathered contrivances. Everything was exactly how it should be. Greeting all her esteemed guests, Elizabeth looked the perfect hostess.
** * **
At dinner, Margaret couldn't help but notice her mother looked the perfect hostess. Her hair, done up in perfect ringlet curls, bounced flirtatiously around her head. She was proud of her mother's tiny waist and slender fingers, her grace and manner. Margaret looked down at herself, sitting unnoticed at the end of the table, with no chest or hips, and short, stubby hands. She felt awkward, knowing her eyes were still red-rimmed from crying. She glanced up to see Miss Bella stand politely and glide her way.
"Margaret, it is time for you to go to bed," Miss Bella said curtly. Margaret couldn't recall ever seeing her governess look so pretty. Her raven hair was curled like Elizabeth's, and her blue eyes shone from the attentions of the men that had the fortune to sit near her.
"Oh, Miss Bella, may I please just…" Margaret hesitated, remembering the sting of Miss Bella's slap. "If you say so, Miss Bella." The younger girl let herself be herded upstairs, wistfully watching as the guests stood up to dance. She paused as she passed William-George's room.
"Miss Bella, may I please say good-night to my brother?" Miss Bella nodded, with an expression that clearly said "be quick", and floated into Margaret's room. Margaret opened William-George's door cautiously and tip-toed into his room.
He looked like her father, with curly brown hair that had yet to be trimmed. Margaret loved watching him. He was so small and knew so little. Every day was a new experience for William-George. To Margaret, life seemed to drag on. She wanted to scream at everyone, sometimes, and she often disobeyed her mother and Miss Bella. She wished she could be just a little older or younger. Being eleven was so difficult.
"Georgie…" Margaret whispered. "Appreciate being this age now. When you're as old as I am, everyone tries to change you. They take your things and tell you you're wrong. And they expect things of you; to be quiet, to be pleasant, to be perfect." Margaret went quiet, listening to hear if Miss Bella was coming in. "If only Uncle George were here… he's not a scoundrel, like Miss Bella thinks. She's never met him, and neither have you. So don't listen to them, baby brother."
"Margaret!" Margaret winced and leaned down to kiss her brother on the forehead before running out of the room.
** * **
Downstairs, the guests laughed and danced, whirling around the floor. The women were beautiful and the men were charming. Elizabeth curtsied to Will, who bowed aristocratically. They spun, Elizabeth pleased her party had been such a success, Will pleased that Elizabeth was pleased. Someone tapped Will's shoulder respectfully.
"May I cut in, William?" Will turned around and bowed again.
"Of course, Governor Swann." Elizabeth smiled and curtsied to her father, who took her in his arms. Will took the chance, gladly, to sit down and rest. Elizabeth rested her head on her father's shoulder.
"This evening was wonderful, Elizabeth. It's good to see you so rosy and cheerful." Governor Swann held his daughter closer and she closed her eyes.
"Thank you, Father. It really was simply exquisite, wasn't it?" Elizabeth opened her eyes as a loud crash resonated throughout the room. An awkward figure, wearing a huge, garish feather she recognized, shushed the broken vase erratically, then looked around apprehensively.
"I thought I told Will not to wear that hat!" She, by chance, checked where Will had been sitting when she last left him. He was still there.
She knew it was none of the other guests she had invited. None of them would be caught dead wearing anything as silly as that feather in their hats. She murmured, "Who…?" The mysteriously familiar feather disappeared from the crowd, into the entry way.
"Excuse me…" Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, curious, and pushed her way through her guests. The person had vanished. He had either gone upstairs or into Will's private study. Elizabeth checked the study. Locked. She picked up her skirts and tentatively, but quickly, began to investigate the second floor.
Elizabeth checked William-George's room, which was empty save for her little son. She turned to leave, but a glint of something shiny caught her eye. George was clutching a crudely sewn stuffed rabbit toy. In one of its long ears was a gold earring. Elizabeth calculated this new addition for only a second before running into Margaret's room.
Nothing. Or, nobody. Not exactly nothing, Elizabeth noticed a slightly yellowed envelope on Margaret's nightstand. Margaret slept peacefully. Elizabeth sprinted into the hall, nearly colliding with Will.
"Elizabeth, what's wrong? Why did you leave the party?" Will, genuinely concerned, held Elizabeth's shoulders and she struggled out of his grip, explaining breathlessly,
"Ja- George! I saw him, but…" Elizabeth pulled Will towards their room, briefly examining every other room they passed. None contained the man she was looking for.
"Are you quite sure, Elizabeth?" Elizabeth nodded and pushed open the door to the master bedroom.
Nobody.
Two envelopes, like the one on Margaret's nightstand, were set innocently on the bed, one on Elizabeth's pillow and one on Will's. Elizabeth picked hers up, and turned it over, reading the last minute message scrawled on the back.
"'Would've stayed longer, loves, but I think my old friend the Commodore caught sight of me. Next time, invite me to the party. – Uncle C. J. S. George.'" Elizabeth looked up. "He was really here." Will stared out the open window, into the night.
"How could we doubt it?" Will put his arm around Elizabeth, watching as a parrot perched on a nearby tree flew into the night, to a ghostly ship just leaving port.
** * **
Author's Note: Well. It had a lot of Will and Elizabeth, didn't it? I told you they'd be here. It was a little sugar-sweet in some parts. You'll forgive me. Longest chapter yet, though. Go me!
