Disclaimer: Not mine, I am not that brilliant. I own the plot. (Or perhaps the plot owns me – I've never gotten this far in a story before, I usually end up stopping after eight pages or so. . . .
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Last Time:
Elizabeth lay on the bed for a bit longer after Winn left. She was worried about her friend. Since having been engaged to Will, she could hear the emptiness of Winn's arguments. Not that my hearing the falseness of it will do me any good. She's the one who has to be convinced that she's lying to herself. Getting up to change for her own dinner, Elizabeth saw the sketch book lying on the nightstand. I wonder . . . .
Picking it up, Elizabeth opened to the back of the book and started flipping pages until she reached the last sketch. What she saw made her open her eyes in astonishment, before she started to grin. Can't stand the man, hmm?
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Winn returned to the Swann residence well after midnight, exhausted but happy, and with an armful of fur. Never to be outdone by their older and more numerous cousins, Marcus's brood had done their best to entertain and amuse their aunt, with varying degrees of success.
Marcus had three girls, Margaret (Meggie) age four, Elsa age three, and Zoë age sixteen months. They were perfect little copies of their parents, having Marcus's dark chestnut hair and deep blue eyes, and Grace's endless amounts of energy, curiosity, and laughter.
Deeply delighted with their gifts, Meggie had surprised Winn with a present of her own. "Auntie Winn! Auntie Winn! Come see what we gots you!" She had taken Winn's hand in her own chubby one, and proceeded to pull her to what appeared to be an outdoor woodshed.
The two were followed closely by Elsa who was chattering happily, "Aun'win, Aun'win, Aun'win gonna see!" The child hadn't quite gotten her "T's" down yet. Zoë, demanding to come along, had already taken up residence in Winn's arms.
Opening the door to the woodshed, Elsa and Meggie scampered inside, giggles soon degenerating into "No, I wanna give it to her!"
Peering into the dark, Winn called, "Why don't you both bring it out?"
Several seconds later the two girls reappeared, Meggie in front with her arms in back of her and Elsa standing closely behind. "You gotta kneel down, Auntie Winn. If you don't it'll roll off."
Wondering, What in the world have the girls gotten me, Winn did as she was told. "Ok, now hold out your arms and close your eyes." Once again following the orders of her small audience, Winn was tempted to peek as she felt something settle into her arms. Whatever it was, it was alive.
"Can I open my eyes now?"
"Yes."
Winn opened her eyes to find a puppy of indeterminate origin in her lap. Zoë, delighted to be so close to the tiny furball, started to bang it on the head. Gently moving Zoë from her lap to the ground, Winn reached to pick up the tiny bundle.
It was definitely a dog. Discreetly looking between the animal's legs, she saw that it was a female. It had wiry grey hair, surprisingly blue eyes, and a very pink tongue. Its ears flopped over a little as if they had gotten tired of standing up straight. It was currently occupied by smelling at Winn's clothing. Stopping and looking up at her it yipped. Winn, against her better judgment, was in love.
"Oh girls, she's beautiful. Where did you find her?"
Margaret, being the more outgoing of the sisters, said, "Daddy took us out last week to get a kitty, and the place we went? They had puppies too, and Elsa and I thought we should get you one since you live all alone." Elsa, losing interest in the conversation, went running back to the house, presumably to find the kitten the girls had gotten.
"Who told you I live all alone?" Winn was curious as to who had said such a thing. She lived with Grandfather, and she traveled. She was rarely alone.
"Papa and Mamma were talking, and Papa said that it wasn't good for you to live alone, and that you needed to find someone. So Elsa and I decided to find someone for you. Did we do a good job?" Her niece's face was so earnest, that Winn smiled and said, "Of course you did. You did an excellent job. What do you think I should name this little lady?"
Meggie's face screwed up in concentration. To bad their father isn't nearly as adorable. What is it with people poking about in my life lately? I'm going to give that man a piece of my mind that will –
"How about 'Pigeon'?"
"That sounds like a wonderful name. How did you choose it?"
"Well, Great-Grandpapa says that no proper Morgan names anything 'cept after birds. How come I'm not named after a bird?" Meggie was looking somewhat confused, as if the idea had just occurred to her.
"You should ask your father that. Come on, let's go inside. I think your sister wants to show me your kitten." Picking up Pigeon in one hand and taking Zoë's hand in the other, Winn and her niece made their way back to the house.
"We named the kitty Kiwi."
"I'm sure you did. That's a very proper Morgan name."
Making her way up the stairs on silent feet, Winn was careful not to wake her sleeping burden. Having been fully assured that the pup was housebroken, Winn entered her room and shut the door behind her.
A lamp was burning on her nightstand and the moon was shining in through the uncovered windows. By their light, Winn made up a bed for the pup in a basket she had purloined from the entryway. Using one of the numerous blankets in the room as padding, she set Pigeon down. Pigeon, what a wonderfully typical Morgan name. Grandfather and his obsession with birds. "I think we'll be calling you Pige for short, youngster," Winn whispered.
Taking care to lock her door to forestall any early morning visitors, Winn stripped down to her camisole and climbed into bed. She was half asleep when she heard the quiet yip from the floor. Reaching down, she picked up the forlorn Pige. The puppy quickly took advantage of the situation to settle herself against Winn's stomach (Winn liked to sleep on her side). Then with each keeping the other company, the two females drifted into sleep.
It was half past ten when Winn woke up the following morning. What she saw made her immediately leap out of bed. Pige had discovered the joys of shoes. At the moment she was working diligently to get her mouth around the toe of one of Winn's boots. Rescuing her beloved boot, Winn scolded the pup. "No, there will be none of that, youngling. If you must chew on a shoe, here's one of my slippers. Content yourself with that and leave my real shoes alone."
Winn quickly got ready for the day, finding another set of clothes like her shipboard ones in the very bottom of her trunk. This set had a white shirt, charcoal grey pants, and a light violet tunic. Thank you, Winn thought to whoever had included the clothes in her limited selection.
Getting dressed quickly, Winn eyed her hair as she started to put it up. Deciding against her normal style, she braided it into a crown around her head. That done, she started to leave the room alone. Hearing Pige's whimpers of protest at being left behind, Winn doubled back and scooped her up.
Trotting down the stairs to see if breakfast was still set out, Winn ran into Elizabeth. "Good morning. Do you want to join me for breakfast or have you eaten already?"
Totally ignoring the question, Elizabeth exclaimed in delight, "Is that a puppy? Where ever do you get it? It's so adorable! Is it a he or a she?"
"Umm . . . Yes it's a puppy. From Meggie and Elsa. It's a she."
"Oh . . ." Elizabeth cooed. "What's her name?"
"Pigeon."
Elizabeth laughed. "What is it with your family and this strange compulsion to name things after birds?"
"It's Grandfather's thing. He's somewhat obsessed with birds. Did I tell you that he had an aviary built last year so he could keep some of the more rare varieties close by?"
"Now that you mention it, I think you may have written something like that. Are you hungry? I was just coming up to wake you; Julia wants to put breakfast away. And Will sent a note around saying that if you still wanted to 'duel' he'd be free this afternoon."
Winn ended up fencing with Will several times over the course of the week, never managing to last more than a half hour in battle. Will, upon seeing how weak Winn's offence was, offered to teach her a few tricks, which she picked up quickly and gratefully.
One day, after a particularly grueling lesson, teacher and student took a break sitting down with Elizabeth who was playing with Pige. "Look at the paws on that beast," Will said. "It's going to grow into a monster."
"Tell me about it," Winn said glumly even as she picked up the canine who was begging her for attention. "I wish Marcus had said something about her pedigree before I fell in love with her." She looked at her companions. "She's half Irish wolfhound and half Airedale. The man who was giving her and her litter mates away happens to breed both. He told me that it's very likely that Pigeon here will grow to be from somewhere between three and three and-a-half feet tall at the shoulder. That's more than half as tall as I am."
"Well, she seems particularly dedicated to you. Maybe you could train her as a guard dog."
"If she remains this affectionate I won't have to," Winn kept moving her head to avoid Pige's attempts to clean her face. "She'll end up knocking over whoever comes near her just for the opportunity to lick them. People will avoid her or run the risk of being licked out of existence."
And so the days until the wedding passed. The arrival of the sun every morning revealed the heightened anxiety in both Will and Elizabeth. By the day before the wedding everyone, including Pige, was just ready for the event to be over.
Winn found herself commandeered to make flower chains of all things. They were meant to be hung over the reception area, along with lengths of colored silk and bunting. And, Winn thought it was a good idea, in theory. The practical application of the idea, however, nearly drove her mad before she rebelled and took herself away to the beach.
Apologizing to Elizabeth on her way out, Winn made a clean getaway and spent the rest of the day, from noon until after sunset, walking along the water's edge and wondering where and what she was going to be doing after she left Port Royal.
It was a little known fact (or perhaps it was so widely known that everyone discarded it) that the island just a mile from the mouth of Port Royal's harbor was riddled with caves and crevasses, many of them large enough for a ship to take harbor in. Jack, one of the few people who took such advantage of that knowledge, steered his ship into one such rift with the ease of practice.
"Capt'n, are you sure that this is a good idea? Takin' harbor so near Port Royal and its garrison? Should we be caught in here it would be the gallows for all of us." Gibbs stood nearby fretting and fussing.
"I've explained this to you once already, Gibbs. This is the best place to take anchor while I'm ashore. The Navy patrols this area but once every fortnight, the last time they did being five days gone. That's plenty of time for me to spend a day or two ashore before we leave without bein' detected."
Judging they were far enough inside the cleft as to be nearly invisible to any passing ships, Jack called to his crew, "Drop anchor, boys. We'll pass the night here. I shall go ashore tomorrow." Returning to his conversation with Gibbs, Jack made the second of his three points for staying here. "Secondly, no one will be looking for pirates to berth here, seeing as how it is but a mile from Port Royal. Pirates usually sail in, rack, sack, and vandalize, and then sail back out. They don't stop a mile from the target and take a breather. And lastly," reaching this point, his favorite one, Jack spread his hands in an idiosyncratic manner, "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Trust me."
As the setting sun announced the onset of dusk to the small seaside community of Port Royal, pirate captain extraordinaire, Jack Sparrow, gave the last of his instructions to his gathered crew. Content that he would find a crew waiting for him when he returned, Jack dismissed them, then walked to a nearby launch.
Gibbs and Ana Maria followed behind, expecting to receive some final orders. "Now, I am leaving the two of you in command of m'ship," Jack said. Turning to look at two of the few people he trusted with his ship, and perhaps with his life (although he wouldn't want to test that theory), Jack put a hand on the shoulder of each. "If some element of this plan should run astray, go to Tortuga and I will do my best to meet you there." Letting go of the gravity he had assumed to emphasize his point, Jack said with his normal jovially, "However, since I am the one who made the plan, there is little that should go amiss. I shall rendezvous with you here in three days."
Together the three pirates lowered the boat into the water. "Luck, Capt'n." Gibbs grasped Jack's hand, then left to dismiss the crew to their supper. Ana Maria took his place in front of Jack.
Grasping Jack's hand in the same manner that Gibbs had, Ana Maria said in a confidential voice, "Whatever it is that you've got planned Jack, remember that Mistress Winn was just reacting to her circumstances. I know her type – she's not as strong as she appears, but she does have a core of iron. You push her too far, and she might just make you regret it."
Jack smirked at the thought of five-foot-nothing Winn making him sorry for getting revenge. The most she'd be able to do was give him a thorough tongue lashing. He knew that she was capable of violence, but that knowledge had been used as he laid his plans. "I've yet to make the acquaintance of any female who could truly make me regret a thing, other than your luminous self, of course. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow – she's the one who needs to watch herself." Taking leave of Ana Maria, Jack hopped into the launch and started rowing his way towards a secluded stream to the north of Port Royal.
Ana Maria watched from the deck of the Pearl, thinking, I hope that self-assured son of the sea doesn't get himself in over his head. But even as she was thinking that, she knew that it was in vain to hope for such a thing. As Jack had pointed out, he was indeed Captain Jack Sparrow, and as such he was not all-knowing. Trouble had a way of finding him, and Winn Morgan was nothing but trouble.
Jack covered the rough mile and a half between his ship and his chosen landing point relatively quickly. That was the good thing about working on one's ship even though one was the captain – it kept you reasonably fit. While he carried no light, the moon had just reached full the night before, so there was plenty of light for him to navigate by.
Reaching shore, Jack quickly and quietly beached his boat. There was no need to hide it for this stretch of beach was surrounded by cliffs that were difficult to traverse, and it was unlikely that anyone would walk this far north on a pleasure jaunt. As he was picking up the bag that contained the bottle of rum and a select assortment of Winn's belongings, Jack heard the yap of a small dog and a woman's voice slowly growing closer. Silently moving into the shadows of some nearby undergrowth and laying down on his belly to take full advantage of the protection it offered, Jack cursed under his breath. What kind of feather brained female roamed secluded beaches at night with only a small dog as company?
Hopefully the kind that won't take notice of a rowboat lying abandoned on an equally abandoned beach, answered his inner voice as the dog he had heard came into view. It started sniffing the sand, apparently catching Jack's scent. Just as it was about to dive into the undergrowth in search of him, the woman's voice distracted it. And now I know what type of woman.
"Pige! Don't you even think of it. There is no way that I am searching for you in all that, youngling. You lose yourself in that and I am going home without you. Come back here, 'tis time we headed back to the house. They must be done with the preparations by now and I haven't eaten since midday." Jack nearly groaned in suppressed agony when his fears were realized. This is pretty much the worse thing that can happen at this point. What is she doing here? This really must be the last time I underestimate her.
The dog went racing to its owner, who was of course, no less than Winn herself. She was once again wearing the grey and lavender outfit that she had found in her trunk. While she had braided her hair around her head that morning, it was starting to come lose in the wind that had picked up with the setting of the sun, lose stands blowing around her face. She had removed her glasses some time ago, and was barefoot, as she had decided to leave her boots at the Swann's.
Pige was frolicking around said feet, bouncing and panting with the uncountable enthusiasm that all puppies and young children have. Jack watched as Winn tried unsuccessfully to catch the pup up in her arms. After her third failed attempt, Winn, brushing stray hairs out of her face, said in a rather frosty voice, "Pigeon. Come here this instant." Jack and the dog both recognized trouble when they heard it.
Pige, crawling forward and making apologetic doggy sounds, finally allowed her mistress to pick her up. Scratching the dog between the ears, Winn muttered, "For all that you're listening to me, I should have named you Jack, or at the very least Sparrow. That might suit a flighty thing like you a bit better, huh girl?" While her words sounded irritated, she was smiling slightly, though it was probably because of her pet and not from the thought of Jack Sparrow.
Sparing only a glance for the boat (after all, it was getting late), Winn set off back down the beach, leaving Jack undiscovered in the undergrowth. Getting up from his stomach, Jack watched from his shelter as Winn's brisk walk led her closer to Port Royal with every barefooted step. Fool woman, he thought. I thought you had more sense, Winnie. I'm disappointed to find you out here all by yourself. What if I had been dangerous? Sighing, Jack decided that he had better follow at a discreet distance to ensure that Winn made it back to her lodgings safely.
Winn looked back only once, feeling as if she were being watched, but that was ridiculous, she told herself. The beach was deserted, she was alone but for her dog, and besides, who was there to be following her?
Jack followed Winn all the way back to the Swann's, albeit from a block or so behind her. The trip had been somewhat uneventful – the few people they had come across being either to drunk or to pretentious to stop, or even look at Winn. At one point Jack had almost stopped following her, but the thought of what might happen if he did kept him on Winn's trail. After all, it'll be somewhat difficult to get decent revenge if the woman is dead. He refused to admit to any other motivation than that.
Upon reaching the gates that enclosed the Swann residence, Winn stopped and set Pigeon down. The feeling of being followed had never gone away during her trip. She'd had to consciously stop herself from looking behind her every few minutes. She refused to look like a victim, even if it was all in her imagination. But now, having reached her temporary home, Winn stopped to look out at the view available from the road.
While it may have looked as if she was relaxed and enjoying the view, she was actually searching for any mysterious figures out of the corners of her eyes. For a moment she thought she had seen something, but when she turned her head to look, it was gone. With a sigh and a shiver she collected her pet and headed indoors.
Why does it feel as if something is hanging over my head? Something more than just the wedding? Winn climbed the stairs to her room. Undressing, she lit several more candles so she had light to sketch by. The moon was just setting into the bay, and she wanted to draw it.
Sitting down in the room's window seat, she started to draw the scene. The moon was half-hidden by one of the rocky promontories that enclosed the harbor, its light streaming across the water. The taverns and buildings were lit by internal firelight. It was a rather bucolic vista, but a memory none the less.
As Winn sat and drew, Jack stood outside the walls to the Governor's residence and watched Winn. The knowledge of which room was hers would come in handy tomorrow during the wedding. If Winnie thinks that no one can tell what she's wearing, or rather, what she's not, then she's sadly mistaken. While Jack wasn't necessarily complaining (he was rather enjoying the view), he did wonder if the girl had as much sense as he had accredited to her. Most ladies wouldn't be caught dead in their encumbering nightgowns and voluminous robes – this one sat in plain sight wearing next to nothing.
Shaking his head, Jack settled in to wait until the lights had gone off in Winn's room. Once they had, and Winn was presumably out of trouble and safely in bed, Jack headed down to the waterfront for a large mug of ale and some sleep.