Usual disclaimers. humph!
Three chapters uploading today... Mul and I had a late night last night... even if it was the morning for her!
***
Jack and Catherine slipped quietly away from the household as soon as breakfast was over, heading down towards the docks. They walked slowly, making their way to the seamstress that Catherine liked to use whenever she was in port. Jack held the door open for her, the bell jangling to announce their presence.
Tabitha Myron looked up from her sewing, smiling as she recognised the couple walking into her shop. "Captain! Mistress Sparrow! What a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?"
"Well it depends on what fabric yer've got," Jack smiled. "We're lookin' fer a number of dresses fer Kitty - p'raps some shirts and trousers if she behaves..." Catherine looked at him in surprise. "I didn't say yer could wear them here luv!" He turned back to Tabitha, clapping his hands together in anticipation. "So... what yer got?"
Tabitha led them through to her fabric store upstairs, allowing them to touch the fabrics as they made their choices. She would not let many customers do this, but the Sparrows were very good customers - they never argued the price either like some of the town notables! Jack unerringly went for the most expensive fabrics she had, often badgering Catherine into agreement until he eventually decided on three bolts of fabric. "These three..." he indicated, "and this too..." He grinned, his hand rested on an ornate brocade in a rich copper shade that was nearly a perfect match for Catherine's hair.
"Ah yes, the brocade is a beautiful shade. It only arrived the other week..."
Catherine looked at the price tag on the fabric. "Jack - no! That is far too expensive!" she gasped.
"But it will look beautiful on yer!" he argued. "Mistress Myron..."
Tabitha helped him with the fabric roll, slitting the banding that protected the bolt in shipping. She pulled several yards free, holding them against Catherine.
Jack had not realised that the roll still been banded - none had been used. He looked at the fabric against her skin - it was perfect. "I want th' whole bolt... even if yer don't use it all..." Tabitha blinked but nodded. "I want th' dress to be unique!"
"Well, I'll just have to check the measurements I've got haven't changed..." She indicated a small side room for Catherine to slip her dress off. She helped her out of her dress, eyes noting but not commenting on the number of new scars as she measured Catherine. "No, still the same!" she smiled, helping her back into the creamy dress as she admired the embroidery. "I don't recognise the style, it suits you - it's not English, is it?"
"It's French... I got it in New Orleans," she replied.
"Ah, that would explain it..." Tabitha sighed. "Would you mind if I examined it... professional curiosity and all..." Catherine stood still as she looked at how the other seamstress had cut and sewn the dress. Small gasps of "Ah!" and "I see!" drifted upwards to Catherine's ears. Eventually Tabitha rose. "Thank you. I suppose we shouldn't keep the Captain waiting any longer," she smiled.
"True," Catherine smiled, but when they returned Jack was sitting staring out of the window, looking up at the sky. "What's the matter?" she frowned.
"Storm's comin'," he sighed. "Big 'un!"
"The Pearl?" Catherine's first thought was for the ship, a fact that was not lost on Jack - she truly was crew.
"Should be fine - she'll still be in Tortuga fer a week an' a bit..." He turned back to the seamstress. "Right, so that's the four dresses an' I want two new shifts, three shirts and a pair of trousers fer m' wife too."
"What material do you want them in?" Tabitha queried for he had only chosen fabric for the dresses.
"Yer best soft white cotton fer th' shifts, cotton fer th' shirts an' whatever dark fabric yer've got fer th' trousers." He paused. "How much?"
It was a large order, but she quickly added the figures together, naming her price. Catherine gasped but Jack shrugged, paying without question. Tabitha was a good seamstress but more than anything he prized her for her discretion. Not a single rumour of the scars that marked his wife's body had ever reached the taverns of Port royal and one thing he learned to value at an early age was to pay discretion well. "I said today didn't matter luv," he smiled at Catherine. "An' I said I was going t' spoil you!"
"That is some spoiling!" she argued.
He shrugged. "So..."
Catherine sighed, knowing she would not win the argument.
"Oh," Jack paused by the door. "If a cobbler turns up an' asks for a yard of that brocade, it's alright... I want t' get some matchin' shoes made too." Catherine's eyes widened, but she held her tongue. Jack had not been joking when he said he was going to spoil her.
Tabitha smiled. "Was there any order in which you wanted the clothes?"
"Dresses first... an' th' copper one first of all!" He smiled. "We're stayin' at th' Groves household - just deliver them as yer finish."
"Of course Captain Sparrow."
Catherine took Jack's offered arm as they left the shop, heading back up the hill slightly towards the cobblers. He smiled as yet again she giggled as her feet were measured - a very unpiratical response if ever he saw one. Regretfully he realised that they would soon have to return to the house for it was nearly lunchtime.
"And what material do you want the shoes in?" Darcy Foster asked, looking up at Jack as he measured Catherine's left foot.
"Tabitha Myron has th' fabric," Jack advised him. "A copper brocade..."
"Ah, yes, that should work well with a little stiffening..." He rose, working out his costs on a small slate before showing the final figure to Jack who nodded and paid.
"We should head back..." Catherine sighed, slipping her hand in his and they left the cobblers. "Papa will need help with his lunch..."
"Just don't let Mary get t' yer... alright?" He squeezed her hand reassuringly.
She stopped, looking down across the harbour. "Have you ever wanted children Jack? Do you have any?"
He stopped mid-stride, surprised by her question. "I may have a few bastards around th' place... I was no saint b'fore I met yer luv," he admitted. "But no whore has ever said anythin'..." He shrugged, wrapping his arm around her. "An' yer are all that matters t' me anyway!"
Catherine smiled as they walked arm in arm back towards the house. Whatever happened, she could not let Mary see how upset she was over this.
***
Three chapters uploading today... Mul and I had a late night last night... even if it was the morning for her!
***
Jack and Catherine slipped quietly away from the household as soon as breakfast was over, heading down towards the docks. They walked slowly, making their way to the seamstress that Catherine liked to use whenever she was in port. Jack held the door open for her, the bell jangling to announce their presence.
Tabitha Myron looked up from her sewing, smiling as she recognised the couple walking into her shop. "Captain! Mistress Sparrow! What a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?"
"Well it depends on what fabric yer've got," Jack smiled. "We're lookin' fer a number of dresses fer Kitty - p'raps some shirts and trousers if she behaves..." Catherine looked at him in surprise. "I didn't say yer could wear them here luv!" He turned back to Tabitha, clapping his hands together in anticipation. "So... what yer got?"
Tabitha led them through to her fabric store upstairs, allowing them to touch the fabrics as they made their choices. She would not let many customers do this, but the Sparrows were very good customers - they never argued the price either like some of the town notables! Jack unerringly went for the most expensive fabrics she had, often badgering Catherine into agreement until he eventually decided on three bolts of fabric. "These three..." he indicated, "and this too..." He grinned, his hand rested on an ornate brocade in a rich copper shade that was nearly a perfect match for Catherine's hair.
"Ah yes, the brocade is a beautiful shade. It only arrived the other week..."
Catherine looked at the price tag on the fabric. "Jack - no! That is far too expensive!" she gasped.
"But it will look beautiful on yer!" he argued. "Mistress Myron..."
Tabitha helped him with the fabric roll, slitting the banding that protected the bolt in shipping. She pulled several yards free, holding them against Catherine.
Jack had not realised that the roll still been banded - none had been used. He looked at the fabric against her skin - it was perfect. "I want th' whole bolt... even if yer don't use it all..." Tabitha blinked but nodded. "I want th' dress to be unique!"
"Well, I'll just have to check the measurements I've got haven't changed..." She indicated a small side room for Catherine to slip her dress off. She helped her out of her dress, eyes noting but not commenting on the number of new scars as she measured Catherine. "No, still the same!" she smiled, helping her back into the creamy dress as she admired the embroidery. "I don't recognise the style, it suits you - it's not English, is it?"
"It's French... I got it in New Orleans," she replied.
"Ah, that would explain it..." Tabitha sighed. "Would you mind if I examined it... professional curiosity and all..." Catherine stood still as she looked at how the other seamstress had cut and sewn the dress. Small gasps of "Ah!" and "I see!" drifted upwards to Catherine's ears. Eventually Tabitha rose. "Thank you. I suppose we shouldn't keep the Captain waiting any longer," she smiled.
"True," Catherine smiled, but when they returned Jack was sitting staring out of the window, looking up at the sky. "What's the matter?" she frowned.
"Storm's comin'," he sighed. "Big 'un!"
"The Pearl?" Catherine's first thought was for the ship, a fact that was not lost on Jack - she truly was crew.
"Should be fine - she'll still be in Tortuga fer a week an' a bit..." He turned back to the seamstress. "Right, so that's the four dresses an' I want two new shifts, three shirts and a pair of trousers fer m' wife too."
"What material do you want them in?" Tabitha queried for he had only chosen fabric for the dresses.
"Yer best soft white cotton fer th' shifts, cotton fer th' shirts an' whatever dark fabric yer've got fer th' trousers." He paused. "How much?"
It was a large order, but she quickly added the figures together, naming her price. Catherine gasped but Jack shrugged, paying without question. Tabitha was a good seamstress but more than anything he prized her for her discretion. Not a single rumour of the scars that marked his wife's body had ever reached the taverns of Port royal and one thing he learned to value at an early age was to pay discretion well. "I said today didn't matter luv," he smiled at Catherine. "An' I said I was going t' spoil you!"
"That is some spoiling!" she argued.
He shrugged. "So..."
Catherine sighed, knowing she would not win the argument.
"Oh," Jack paused by the door. "If a cobbler turns up an' asks for a yard of that brocade, it's alright... I want t' get some matchin' shoes made too." Catherine's eyes widened, but she held her tongue. Jack had not been joking when he said he was going to spoil her.
Tabitha smiled. "Was there any order in which you wanted the clothes?"
"Dresses first... an' th' copper one first of all!" He smiled. "We're stayin' at th' Groves household - just deliver them as yer finish."
"Of course Captain Sparrow."
Catherine took Jack's offered arm as they left the shop, heading back up the hill slightly towards the cobblers. He smiled as yet again she giggled as her feet were measured - a very unpiratical response if ever he saw one. Regretfully he realised that they would soon have to return to the house for it was nearly lunchtime.
"And what material do you want the shoes in?" Darcy Foster asked, looking up at Jack as he measured Catherine's left foot.
"Tabitha Myron has th' fabric," Jack advised him. "A copper brocade..."
"Ah, yes, that should work well with a little stiffening..." He rose, working out his costs on a small slate before showing the final figure to Jack who nodded and paid.
"We should head back..." Catherine sighed, slipping her hand in his and they left the cobblers. "Papa will need help with his lunch..."
"Just don't let Mary get t' yer... alright?" He squeezed her hand reassuringly.
She stopped, looking down across the harbour. "Have you ever wanted children Jack? Do you have any?"
He stopped mid-stride, surprised by her question. "I may have a few bastards around th' place... I was no saint b'fore I met yer luv," he admitted. "But no whore has ever said anythin'..." He shrugged, wrapping his arm around her. "An' yer are all that matters t' me anyway!"
Catherine smiled as they walked arm in arm back towards the house. Whatever happened, she could not let Mary see how upset she was over this.
***
