Elizabeth was sitting gracefully, perched on a small stool on her widow´s walk, looking at the sparkly blue sea. Her maids were fixing her hair into an elaborate confection of curls, flowers, and powder. She squinted and spotted the Black Pearl. She could not help but sigh with delight. Marriage at twenty-two. Of course, her mother had married her father when she was sixteen, but Elizabeth had not matured until almost last year.

But then Elizabeth saw a familiar figure easing up to her house. It was her soon-to-be husband! She leapt up, causing Catherine to drop her powder puff.

"What is it, miss?" she asked, silently cursing her lady.

"It´s Jack! Oh, Jack Sparrow!" she tweeted down to her love.

Jack looked up and gasped. Elizabeth´s head looked like a fancy bird´s nest. "Oh, Elizabeth Swann," he said, resisting the urge to climb the scaffolding just to kiss her. "I must tell you something very urgent."

Elizabeth´s primary thought when she had first seen Jack was that brides and grooms were not allowed to see each other before their weddings. But forget superstition.

"Come up right away!" she cried, and dashed out of her room, forgetting she was not wearing anything but her slip.

Jack let himself in through the big doors. Elizabeth paused in the hallway, looking over the staircase railing. She saw Jack waiting and spryly flipped over the banister and onto the floor. Jack ran over to her. "Are you all righ´?"

"Never better!" Elizabeth cried, and kissed him deeply, not noticing how he was still damp. Jack felt her silk dress and shuddered, goosebumps running up and down his arms. He couldn´t break it to her, not now. . .

But he had to. He broke off. "Darling, we cannot marry today."

Elizabeth felt like she had been hit with a sledgehammer. Tears filled her kohl-rimmed eyes (slightly, that is, she was not wearing as much as Jack) and they spilled down her cheeks. She could not help it- she burst into a impassioned fit of weeping. "You don´t wanna get married?" she sobbed.

Jack inwardly cringed. "No, no, a thousand times no. I DO wanna get married, with every fiber of my being." He grabbed her face and forced her to look in his eyes. "Elizabeth Swann, I love ye so much, it´s almost unbelievable. But Annamaria is missing. She´s one of our closest friends. We cannae do this wedding without ´er."

This made Elizabeth cry even harder. Because of stupid Annamaria, her dream day was ruined forever. She tore herself away from Jack. "That´s not fair!" she screamed. Furiously wiping away her tears, her fingers stained black, she stomped up the stairs. Or, as much as she could stomp for a girl wearing a negligee and satin slippers.

Jack did not try to follow Elizabeth. He knew this was heartbreaking for her and she needed time alone to sort out her thoughts.

And she did. Flinging herself onto her bed, her makeup running down her face, Elizabeth started blubbering hysterically. The maids, who were all cooing over Elizabeth´s dress, ran over.

"What´s wrong, Miss Elizabeth?" cried Mary, grabbing Elizabeth's hand.

"I´m not getting married," Elizabeth wailed, and resumed crying her river.

~*~

Jack turned around and headed towards the docks. As he quickly moseyed off of the Swanns´ property, through the open windows he could hear Elizabeth having her fit. It broke his heart, but what could he do?

Luckily, when he got to the docks, the harbormaster and Creole-accent were still arguing about his stolen boat. Jack tapped the harbormaster.

"May I ask a question?"

"What is it?" the harbormaster sniffed.

"Did a young black girl come up an' take away this gentlemen´s boat?" Jack asked, rocking back and forth on his bare feet.

"To the best of my recollection," said the harbormaster. "I´m a very busy man, so would you please excuse me-"

"Wait!" said the Creole. "A girl stole ma boat?!"

"´Er name is Annamaria Castilla, but, did ya see what direction she was goin´ in?" The harbormaster pointed in the direction that would take Jack to Hispaniola.

"Thank you, you fine men," said Jack, giving them his special thank-you hand motion. He ran off the edge of the deck and swam back to the Pearl.

Marcella, who was chewing off her nails, was sitting on the ledge and when she spotted Jack, treading water below her, she threw him a rope and pulled him up. Will was sitting next to her, rather quietly.

"So?" she said anxiously.

"Elizabeth is brokenhearted- but what else could we expect," Jack sighed. "But! The harbormaster an´ I had a nice chat- seems Anna has gone to Hispaniola!"

"Hispaniola!" Will cried.

"Why there? She hates Tortuga," said Marcella. "I think. . ." She looked off in the direction of Hispaniola. Her eyes grew huge. "Isla Vache," she murmured.

"What?" Jack said. "Isla Vache- whazzat?"

"An island, you idiot," said Marcella. "Where I raised my daughter until I left to become the Queen of Cuba." She smiled briefly. "I don´t know why she went there, though."

"Well, I´m glad we figured out where she went," Jack said, blowing out a sigh of relief. "Where is Isla Vache?"

"Southwest of Hispaniola, a very small island indeed. A couple years ago, Henry Morgan made it his base for his operation against Panama. His first mate, Antonio Rafael, took hold of the island once Morgan left," said Marcella.

Jack whistled. "THE Henry Morgan?"

"None other."

"Why would she be sailing back to ´er childhood home when ´er best friends are getting married?" Jack said, saying what they were all thinking.

Will sighed. "Well, I´ll be praying she gets there safely."

Night fell as Elizabeth stonily refused food; the Pearl´s crew ate a meal of hardtack, porridge, and grapes; and Annamaria kept sailing towards her island, occasionally digging a biscuit out of her rations and picking at it. She kept thinking, What if I fail?