Elizabeth was a little surprised how quickly the wedding preparations went. It wasn't an extravagent ceremony, something that no doubt contributed to the matter. She was overjoyed to wear her mother's wedding dress instead of waiting for a stylish new corseted affair from London (she wanted to be able to breathe on her wedding day, after all). Later on, it irked her that she could only barely remember the ceremony. She realized after that she'd spent it staring into Will's eyes. Not an all together unpleasant way to spend her time, but she was certain that other things had probably happened during that time.
She did remember walking down the aisle on her father's arm and the aroma of bright, Jamacian flowers wafting through the air. She also recalled seeing Brody Fenton and his sister in attendance, as well as Commodore Norrington. A tiny pang of guilt hit her when she saw the officer, but it evaporated moments later when it struck her that she was suddenly standing beside Will and they were to be married. She felt ready to burst in all directions with joy, excitement and even a little fear.
Elizabeth did realize that some of her excitement was due to the plans she and Will had made regarding their honeymoon. Their official plan was to sail the length of Jamacia and then return home—she and Will had plotted to change course and sail north to Tortuga, instead. There they would arrange a makeshift ceremony of sorts and be wed again, this time with Jack, Grace and the crew of the Pearl in attendance.
She vaguely recalled saying the words, "I do" and hearing Will utter them, as well. Her favorite part of the wedding, however, was after they were pronounced man and wife. Will leaned down and his lips gently brushed against hers, as though he was afraid to break her. It didn't take long for their kiss to creep from acceptable and delicate to far from chaste. Indeed, it would later become known as scandelous and she'd choose to roll her eyes whenever the topic was broached within her earshot.
Mary was quite unaware that her jaw was hanging agape. That was most definetly not a seemly kiss and it certainly wasn't appropriate for the public eye. She felt the heat of a blush creeping into her cheeks as Elizabeth and her new husband parted breathlessly and began to jog down the aisle. Mary shook her head. She turned to the left just in time to notice Brody standing to leave.
"Wherever are you going, brother dear?" she asked, making her eyes as round and innocent as she possibly could. She had her suspisions, but dared not give them any voice just yet.
"Unlike certain whimsical young ladies, I have business to attend to," her gave her a dark look. Mary had never felt such venom directed at her before and she felt a slight prick of fear. As the rest of the guests began to stand and mingle, all the while meandering in the general direction of the reception, Mary gathered her skirts and discreetly followed her sibling. It wasn't an easy task, weaving through the small crowd and at the same time trying to look inconspicuous as she moved in an entirely different direction than everyone else—except for Brody, of course. She followed him as he wove his way through the remainder of the wedding-goers, then through the city itself.
It was with a smirk of satisfaction that he led her to the docks. She'd been right. Mary watched from a safe distance as he boarded a longboat that quickly set out for a ship in the harbor—The Rainbow. As causually as she could, Mary strolled down to the dock to where a young man in ragged clothing knelt, getting another small boat ready to go.
"Might I inquire," she asked with an air of curiousity. The man's head snapped up from what he was doing and he stared at her in surprise with bright blue eyes. "Where that ship is going?" she pointed to the ship her brother was now aboard.
"The Rainbow?" he asked. At her nod a thoughtful look overtook him. "I b'lieve she's settin' sail fer Tortuga, ma'am." She let a bit of shock appear on her face.
"Isn't that a pirate settlement?"
"Aye, ma'am, a right dangerous place," he stood to face her. She paused for a moment before asking her next question.
"Are there any other ships sailing for Tortuga soon?" He regarded her warily for a moment, then leaned close and whispered conspiratorily.
"Aye, The Gilded Rose. She sets sail t'night, s'posedly fer a cruise down the isle, but the passengers asked fer a little change 'o course. I'm on 'er crew, in fact," he seemed to swell just a bit with pride. "They're in with pirates, them Turners," she could nearly feel the sweat rolling down his unshaven cheek, his face was so close to her own. Mary barely noticed it—she was too preoccupied with the plan that was coming together in her head.
"Is there any way?" she asked in just as conspiratorial a whisper. "That I could barter passage on that ship without my…Identity being known?" He leaned back and regarded her carefully.
"Aye, ma'am," he nodded. "There jus' may be. The cook's broken a leg. If ye kin bind yer chest, I might be able to git ye aboard as 'is 'elper," he smiled and rubbed his thumb against his fingers. "It's goin' ta' cost ye, though." She grinned back at him and pulled several coins from her handbag.
"I think that can be arranged."
"Name's Earl," he said, extending a hand. She glanced at it disdainfully before taking and shaking it firmly. It was rough, warm and slick from sweat.
"And you can call me Mary," her grin widened as she glanced at The Rainbow. "Well, Earl, I believe we have an accord."
Unbeknownst to either, a pair of keen eyes watched them from across the water.
"Get yerselves up ladies!" the harsh yell was accompanied by a startling thud against the door. Grace awoke suddenly, pulled violently from a pleasant dream. She listened as Tom's heavy steps creaked down the hallway before sitting and wiping the sleep from her eyes. Bella was already exchanging her sleep clothes for the red dress she wore for work. Grace let a sigh escape her lips before changing into her own dress.
She'd already lost track of time. She knew she couldn't have been working at Seagull's Egg for very long, but it certainly felt like an eternity. This was not the kind of life she'd imagined for herself on Tortuga from the deck of the Pearl. A pang of sadness struck her at the thought of the ship. She didn't want to miss Captian Jack Sparrow and his crew—she wanted to be angry at them. She wanted to be oblivious to the fact that they were gone. The problem was, she couldn't help but miss the freedom she'd enjoyed—especially in her current situation. Every day she woke a little before sunset, worked all night, cleaned up around dawn, and had a little time to herself before going to sleep—only to wake a few hours later to start the process all over again. She was certainly glad that she had food and shelter—and extremely glad to have gotten out of marrying Brody—but the life couldn't help but bore her.
"Ye've always got somethin' on yer mind, Gracie," Bella was giving her a curious look. In the past several days, the two young women had gotten to know each other rather well. Tall and thin with blonde locks spilling into across a finely boned face, Bella was a pretty thing—probably, Grace surmised, why she works for Tom. Tom Gall was a formidable man and his was not an unruly tavern. No one messed about with Tom's wenches without the girl's favor—it was an unspoken rule Grace had yet to see broken.
"Well, a lot's happened in the past few weeks," Grace ducked her eyes from Bella's grey stare. She didn't intend to tell the other woman a thing about her flight—she didn't intend to tell anyone about that little adventure, in fact. Bella let out a resigned 'hmph' before changing the subject.
"Say, did ye see that pirate lookin' at ye on yer first night servin'? I hadn't got a chance to ask 'til now," Grace rolled her eyes. Most conversations Grace had overheard that involved Bella also involved men. Grace had already decided not to get mixed up with the opposite sex until things had been quiet for a good long time, but humored her coworker anyway.
"No, Bella, I'm afraid I missed 'im," she drew her stomach in as she began to pull the laces of her bodice tight.
"He just stared at you from the door for a moment before walkin' away. Dark but 'andsome," she let out a sigh. "I'll bet 'e was a pirate captain." Grace's eyes narrowed.
"Just what did this dark and handsome pirate look like, Bella?"
"Well, he—"
The door burst open to reveal a cross-looking Rosie. To say the least, the red-head had a coarse personality. To those who weren't customers, her cutting words often dripped with sarcasm. Her word carried authority and she was respected by all of the pub's regulars. Grace liked her, even when the woman's sharp words were directed in her direction. As they happened to be just then.
"Are ye' goin' tae spend all night lolly-gaggin' up 'ere or are ye' goin' to save yerselves getting' fired?" Without another word, Bella and Grace bustled past her.
The thought of her mysterious 'admirer' slipped from Grace's mind.
"This way," Earl's voice was hushed as he led Mary down the dock to a waiting longboat. Mary followed—she didn't have much choice in the matter, after all. His calloused hand encircled her wrist in a grip she doubted she could break. Not to mention that she'd bound her chest so tightly that breathing caused her discomfort and distraction. The sun had nearly set by the time they reached the longboat, packed with the last of the supplies to go to the ship. She concentrated on respiration as they crossed the harbor. In. Out. In. Out. It was a soothing practice and would have put her to sleep if she hadn't been as aware of her situation. She knew she was doing a fool thing, but she wasn't going to let Brody get away with whatever he was doing. The quiet slip of the water around the oars lulled her mind a little until they'd reached the ship. As the boat thunked against the hull of The Gilded Rose, Mary reached carefully for the first rung of the ladder. A shudder ran through her as a hand grasped her shoulder.
"Nice an' easy, aye, Marty?" Earl released her when she nodded silently.
I hope I don't faint, she mused as she began her climb. The plan, so far, was going well. She was the cook's assistant for the voyage, a young man named Marty. She'd be able to stay out of sight of Will and Elizabeth and once they reached Tortuga, she'd be free to spy on her brother until they departed.
She peeked her head over the side of the vessel—it was a din of activity, men rushing here and there, preparing to sail. She took a deep breath, then heaved herself over the side.
Author's Note: You may now hurl spears for the lateness of this chapter.
Damaia—As I understand it, Port Royale was destroyed by earthquake, but rebuilt in the same spot. I'm going by what's listed as the approximate time at the official PotC site (it's under production somewhere…). I'm also going by the Disnified version of Port Royale—more reputable than historically accurate.
THANK YOU to every who's reviewed. I feel like crap for letting this chapter go for so long. . I hope this chapter is up to snuff and apologize for the shortness of the wedding (I've never been to a wedding). I also apologize for the lack of Jack, but I assure you that chapter twelve will see more than a bit of him. ^_-
Anyway, that's all the author's note I'm going to write, because I'd like to get this uploaded.^_^;;
Thanks for reading!^_^