Passage to St. Kitts
Chapter 16
Will went down to his cabin aboard the Pearl to clean up. Blood stained his hands and was splashed on his clothes. He poured some water into a basin and began to wash. Two years ago, when he'd first met Jack Sparrow, he'd have been appalled at his own actions today. He'd participated in the sacking of a Spanish ship. He'd killed several men. In truth, he wasn't exactly sure how many he had killed. In the heat of battle, he hadn't counted. Hands clean, he stripped off his stained garments and got out a clean shirt and breeches. While he dressed he tried to assess his reactions. He hadn't killed anyone who had surrendered, after all. Gibbs had carefully taught him several Spanish phrases, such as "Cry quarter", "surrender" and "drop your sword". He'd been shouting them over and over again throughout the whole battle. Jack, who had been fighting at his shoulder, had done the same thing. Unlike Captain LeSerre who had held Will prisoner last year, these men had done nothing to injure or insult him personally. However, as with Captain LeSerre, Will found that he felt no remorse over killing these men. They themselves would have killed him without the slightest hesitation. To be honest, he felt exhilarated. The battle was over, the contest won. Was this one of the reasons men became pirates? The thrill of victory?
Will drew his sword from his scabbard and checked the edge. It was a new sword. The first one he'd made for himself was lost when the Banshee had sunk a year ago. There were a few nicks, nothing serious. He would have to hone the edge again. Compared to the blades he'd made for Jack and Annamaria, this sword was very plain. He hadn't bothered with gold filigree or jewels for his personal weapon. However, like all his swords, this one was beautifully made and perfectly balanced. Perhaps now that he was making custom blades for sale, he should make himself a fancier one. It would be good business to have an example of an elaborate weapon to show to prospective customers. Will shook his head and sheathed the sword. Two minutes ago he'd been thinking about the exciting life of a privateer. Now he was designing swords in his head. Which was the greater part of him, the pirate or the blacksmith?
--
Much later, the Pearl hoisted sails and headed for St. Thomas. The guns aboard the Aldonza had been disabled, and everything of value had been taken and brought aboard the Pearl. After determining that the Spanish sailors were able to jury rig the ship enough to sail, albeit very slowly, they cut loose and left the Aldonza to make her way to the nearest Spanish port.
Gwen had patched up Tomas Valera, and he and his wife were locked in a cabin about the Pearl. Gwen had also seen to Norrington's ribs, and pronounced them healing well.
Lying on her stomach on the bunk, Antonia sighed in relief as Gwen smoothed a soothing cream on the welts from the beating she'd endured. Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bunk. "Too bad you weren't wearing a corset," she said. "That would have protected you fairly well."
Antonia smiled. "I know. I never thought I'd want one aboard ship, however."
Elizabeth laughed, and moved to open Antonia's trunk, which had been retrieved from the Aldonza. "Tell me where to find a nightdress in here."
Antonia raised herself on one elbow and gestured with the other hand, the candlelight glinting off her ring. "They should be on the left side, underneath that red dress."
Elizabeth, however, had caught sight the ring. Reaching out she took Antonia's hand and studied it, running her fingers over the gold swan. "Where did you get this ring?" she inquired, her voice tight.
Antonia's brows knit in puzzlement. "It was my mother's. It was given to her by my real father."
"What was his name?" she asked urgently?
"Roland Swann, why do you ask?"
Elizabeth released Antonia's hand and sank down on the edge of the bunk again. "Roland Swann?"
"Yes. If you'd hand me those papers, I'll show you."
Elizabeth picked up the folded packet and passed it to Antonia, who opened them and handed Elizabeth the marriage lines. Antonia looked in bewilderment at Gwen, who looked as though she was about to start laughing.
"Antonia," Elizabeth said, setting down the document. "My maiden name is Swann. My father is Weatherby Swann, the Governor of Jamaica. He had a younger brother named Roland, who died approximately twenty-one years ago."
Antonia sat bolt upright. "Does that mean.?"
Elizabeth smiled. "Well met, cousin."
--
The sky was deep blue velvet, scattered with stars that gleamed much brighter than diamonds ever could. It was Annamaria's watch, and she was enjoying the solitude. Absently her fingers played over the helm. The scene she'd left an hour ago in the Captain's cabin had been too much for her composure. They'd had a celebratory dinner (with supplies stolen from the Aldonza, of course) for the ship's officers and passengers. The food wasn't the problem, it was the company. The room wasn't really large enough for the number of people in it, and they'd been squeezed rather tightly at the table. Will and Elizabeth had taken advantage of the opportunity to practically sit in each other's pockets, and exchange far too many intimate glances. Gwen, as usual, showed more decorum, but the affection between her and Jack was only too obvious. And Norrington! Annamaria would not have believed he was capable of making sheep's eyes at anyone, but that Spanish girl seemed to have captured his heart. Annamaria doubted Norrington had been this demonstrative when he'd been courting Elizabeth Swann, but you never knew. Antonia seemed nice enough. Funny that she'd turned out to be Elizabeth's cousin. Wonder what Governor Swann would make of that!
Annamaria gazed out at the dark ocean, idly noting the glimmer of the moon's refection on the water, her mind absently turning over the impressions of the evening. Why was it that every time that Will caressed Elizabeth's hand her heart gave a little lurch? Why did she feel empty when Norrington smiled into Antonia's eyes? Even Jack and Gwen. Why on earth would she be envious of Jack and Gwen? She gave herself a mental shake. Envious? Why did that word come to her mind? Was she really envious of the love they had for each other? Yes, she realized dully. She was. She didn't want Will or Norrington, or even Jack. But it would be nice, she thought, to have a man who cared for her. One who wanted to touch her with affection, not just with lust.
A dark shadow moved onto the main deck, and started up the stairs to the quarterdeck. "Who's there?" she said sharply.
"Joseph," came the reply. Moments later the he emerged from the shadows into the light of the small lantern on the quarterdeck. "A beautiful night, is it not?"
"Yes, very," she agreed.
Instead of standing beside her, he moved behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Instinctively she tensed at his touch, but the large warm hands merely began to massage the tight muscles until she relaxed again. "How long until we reach St. Thomas?" he asked quietly.
"Mmmmm. Late tomorrow if the wind holds." Joseph's fingers continued to massage her shoulders and neck, smoothing, caressing. Annamaria enjoyed the sensation. She also enjoyed the feeling that this man did care for her. Is this what she wanted? Was he what she wanted? Joseph wrapped his arms around her and gently pulled her against him, resting his cheek on her hair. "I'm trying to steer this ship," she protested.
"Am I hindering you?"
"No, I suppose not," she answered.
"How long until your watch is over?" he asked.
"Two more hours," she replied. Another shadow appeared on the main deck, and began climbing the steps to the quarterdeck. "Who's there," she asked again, as Joseph released her and stepped back.
In answer a raucous voice called "A pirate's life for me!" as Cotton appeared on the quarterdeck, his parrot flapping on his shoulder.
"Cotton!" exclaimed Annamaria in surprise. "You're early!" He merely smiled and motioned her away from the helm. "But, it isn't your watch yet.."
Joseph's teeth flashed white in the lantern light as he took her hand and pulled her toward the stairs. "Come, Anna," he said. "Good night, Cotton!"
"She's a bonny lass, she is!" called the parrot after them.
Chapter 16
Will went down to his cabin aboard the Pearl to clean up. Blood stained his hands and was splashed on his clothes. He poured some water into a basin and began to wash. Two years ago, when he'd first met Jack Sparrow, he'd have been appalled at his own actions today. He'd participated in the sacking of a Spanish ship. He'd killed several men. In truth, he wasn't exactly sure how many he had killed. In the heat of battle, he hadn't counted. Hands clean, he stripped off his stained garments and got out a clean shirt and breeches. While he dressed he tried to assess his reactions. He hadn't killed anyone who had surrendered, after all. Gibbs had carefully taught him several Spanish phrases, such as "Cry quarter", "surrender" and "drop your sword". He'd been shouting them over and over again throughout the whole battle. Jack, who had been fighting at his shoulder, had done the same thing. Unlike Captain LeSerre who had held Will prisoner last year, these men had done nothing to injure or insult him personally. However, as with Captain LeSerre, Will found that he felt no remorse over killing these men. They themselves would have killed him without the slightest hesitation. To be honest, he felt exhilarated. The battle was over, the contest won. Was this one of the reasons men became pirates? The thrill of victory?
Will drew his sword from his scabbard and checked the edge. It was a new sword. The first one he'd made for himself was lost when the Banshee had sunk a year ago. There were a few nicks, nothing serious. He would have to hone the edge again. Compared to the blades he'd made for Jack and Annamaria, this sword was very plain. He hadn't bothered with gold filigree or jewels for his personal weapon. However, like all his swords, this one was beautifully made and perfectly balanced. Perhaps now that he was making custom blades for sale, he should make himself a fancier one. It would be good business to have an example of an elaborate weapon to show to prospective customers. Will shook his head and sheathed the sword. Two minutes ago he'd been thinking about the exciting life of a privateer. Now he was designing swords in his head. Which was the greater part of him, the pirate or the blacksmith?
--
Much later, the Pearl hoisted sails and headed for St. Thomas. The guns aboard the Aldonza had been disabled, and everything of value had been taken and brought aboard the Pearl. After determining that the Spanish sailors were able to jury rig the ship enough to sail, albeit very slowly, they cut loose and left the Aldonza to make her way to the nearest Spanish port.
Gwen had patched up Tomas Valera, and he and his wife were locked in a cabin about the Pearl. Gwen had also seen to Norrington's ribs, and pronounced them healing well.
Lying on her stomach on the bunk, Antonia sighed in relief as Gwen smoothed a soothing cream on the welts from the beating she'd endured. Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bunk. "Too bad you weren't wearing a corset," she said. "That would have protected you fairly well."
Antonia smiled. "I know. I never thought I'd want one aboard ship, however."
Elizabeth laughed, and moved to open Antonia's trunk, which had been retrieved from the Aldonza. "Tell me where to find a nightdress in here."
Antonia raised herself on one elbow and gestured with the other hand, the candlelight glinting off her ring. "They should be on the left side, underneath that red dress."
Elizabeth, however, had caught sight the ring. Reaching out she took Antonia's hand and studied it, running her fingers over the gold swan. "Where did you get this ring?" she inquired, her voice tight.
Antonia's brows knit in puzzlement. "It was my mother's. It was given to her by my real father."
"What was his name?" she asked urgently?
"Roland Swann, why do you ask?"
Elizabeth released Antonia's hand and sank down on the edge of the bunk again. "Roland Swann?"
"Yes. If you'd hand me those papers, I'll show you."
Elizabeth picked up the folded packet and passed it to Antonia, who opened them and handed Elizabeth the marriage lines. Antonia looked in bewilderment at Gwen, who looked as though she was about to start laughing.
"Antonia," Elizabeth said, setting down the document. "My maiden name is Swann. My father is Weatherby Swann, the Governor of Jamaica. He had a younger brother named Roland, who died approximately twenty-one years ago."
Antonia sat bolt upright. "Does that mean.?"
Elizabeth smiled. "Well met, cousin."
--
The sky was deep blue velvet, scattered with stars that gleamed much brighter than diamonds ever could. It was Annamaria's watch, and she was enjoying the solitude. Absently her fingers played over the helm. The scene she'd left an hour ago in the Captain's cabin had been too much for her composure. They'd had a celebratory dinner (with supplies stolen from the Aldonza, of course) for the ship's officers and passengers. The food wasn't the problem, it was the company. The room wasn't really large enough for the number of people in it, and they'd been squeezed rather tightly at the table. Will and Elizabeth had taken advantage of the opportunity to practically sit in each other's pockets, and exchange far too many intimate glances. Gwen, as usual, showed more decorum, but the affection between her and Jack was only too obvious. And Norrington! Annamaria would not have believed he was capable of making sheep's eyes at anyone, but that Spanish girl seemed to have captured his heart. Annamaria doubted Norrington had been this demonstrative when he'd been courting Elizabeth Swann, but you never knew. Antonia seemed nice enough. Funny that she'd turned out to be Elizabeth's cousin. Wonder what Governor Swann would make of that!
Annamaria gazed out at the dark ocean, idly noting the glimmer of the moon's refection on the water, her mind absently turning over the impressions of the evening. Why was it that every time that Will caressed Elizabeth's hand her heart gave a little lurch? Why did she feel empty when Norrington smiled into Antonia's eyes? Even Jack and Gwen. Why on earth would she be envious of Jack and Gwen? She gave herself a mental shake. Envious? Why did that word come to her mind? Was she really envious of the love they had for each other? Yes, she realized dully. She was. She didn't want Will or Norrington, or even Jack. But it would be nice, she thought, to have a man who cared for her. One who wanted to touch her with affection, not just with lust.
A dark shadow moved onto the main deck, and started up the stairs to the quarterdeck. "Who's there?" she said sharply.
"Joseph," came the reply. Moments later the he emerged from the shadows into the light of the small lantern on the quarterdeck. "A beautiful night, is it not?"
"Yes, very," she agreed.
Instead of standing beside her, he moved behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Instinctively she tensed at his touch, but the large warm hands merely began to massage the tight muscles until she relaxed again. "How long until we reach St. Thomas?" he asked quietly.
"Mmmmm. Late tomorrow if the wind holds." Joseph's fingers continued to massage her shoulders and neck, smoothing, caressing. Annamaria enjoyed the sensation. She also enjoyed the feeling that this man did care for her. Is this what she wanted? Was he what she wanted? Joseph wrapped his arms around her and gently pulled her against him, resting his cheek on her hair. "I'm trying to steer this ship," she protested.
"Am I hindering you?"
"No, I suppose not," she answered.
"How long until your watch is over?" he asked.
"Two more hours," she replied. Another shadow appeared on the main deck, and began climbing the steps to the quarterdeck. "Who's there," she asked again, as Joseph released her and stepped back.
In answer a raucous voice called "A pirate's life for me!" as Cotton appeared on the quarterdeck, his parrot flapping on his shoulder.
"Cotton!" exclaimed Annamaria in surprise. "You're early!" He merely smiled and motioned her away from the helm. "But, it isn't your watch yet.."
Joseph's teeth flashed white in the lantern light as he took her hand and pulled her toward the stairs. "Come, Anna," he said. "Good night, Cotton!"
"She's a bonny lass, she is!" called the parrot after them.