Disclaimer: Mostly Disney's, except for the original characters.

Harry and the Pirate: Norrington's Choice

III. All Asea

When Anatole had finished consulting with all four ladies on culinary matters and had taken himself off, Maria turned to her mistress and said in a low voice, "Lady Margaret, how can you let yourself be taken in by that man! He is a criminal! He attacked and sank…"

"A French ship, Maria. We are at war again, if you will remember, and he is a privateer, not a pirate, in spite of appearances. Unfortunate that the peace was ended after we had secured passage aboard the Vaillant, but so it was, as you well know!"

"Yes," acknowledged the Nurse. "But really, madam! You are far too trusting!"

Lady Margaret frowned thoughtfully. "You may be right. And yet…there is something about him. I would not trust him with my purse, perhaps, but…well… you saw how good he was with Julietta! He is a very odd character, to be sure! "

"'Odd' grossly understates the case," said Maria firmly.

Her mistress smiled a little, but said seriously, "Well, I forbid you to be rude to him. It could only be detrimental to our welfare while we are in his power. But how strange and wonderful that he should be married to Harry! Henrietta Swann as she was, you know. I confess I am very much looking forward to seeing her again. Her company was the greatest solace to me when we were in school. I was very homesick when I first went, and felt as though I might have quite sunk into a decline if Harry had not taken me under her wing! Not that she didn't lead me into some scrapes. But she was also very proficient at talking her way out of them, and took the blame herself if she could not. Which," added Lady Margaret, with a little smile, "was only just, as I recall."

"She sounds as questionable a character as her husband!" remarked the Nurse.

"Yes. But really, she was the sweetest girl! Mischievous, but so very kind, too. But you will see for yourself in a few days!"

*************

"She fancies you, you know."

Jack cocked a dark eyebrow and glanced at the young imp standing next to him on the quarterdeck.

Charles Holliday met his gaze, mischief on his face. "My sister. Suzanna."

"Aye," said Jack, his eyes narrowing, "I do know, but it ain't the part of a gentleman to betray a lady's confidence in such matters."

"Oh," said Charles, slightly abashed. Then he straightened. "Well, perhaps I don't wish to be a gentleman. Maybe I'll be a pirate when I'm grown."

"Maybe you will, but that don't preclude the possibility of you bein' a gentleman as well. Savvy?"

"Oh," said Charles again. "Are you both? I mean…were you. Of course you're a privateer now. But before?"

Jack laughed shortly. "You think that piece of paper changes anything? I'm no different now than I was four months ago, save the British Navy stayin' off me tail. And when they make peace with France and Spain again…."

"You'll be a pirate again?"

"Aye. Likely enough. Who knows what lies 'round the corner, eh? But to return to the subject at hand, y'don't need to play the cad just 'cause you're a Gentleman of Fortune 'stead of a Gentleman of Leisure. An' it would seem to me it's especially unwise when dealin' with your sister. Not that I've got one. But I know a few—me own wife, for instance." Jack gave a slight snort of grim laughter, thinking of the thorny relationship that existed between Harry and her brother, Weatherby Swann, Governor of Port Royal.

Charles, interested, commented, "You've no sisters? Do you have brothers, then? I always wanted a brother. Sisters are the very de-…" The boy hesitated, and flushed slightly at Jack's sharp look. "Well… they're a bother."

Jack nodded. "Most females are, one way or another. Although they've a few redeeming qualities as well, of course." Jack caught sight of Owens emerging from belowdecks, and observed, "There's your partner in crime." He watched his Cabin Boy run across the deck toward them.

"Owens!" Charles called, happily.

"Holliday!" Owens shouted back. He was grinning as he took the steps two at a time. Gaining the quarterdeck, he stopped, gave Jack a brief salute and said, "Chores're done, Captain!"

"I suppose you'll want to be off then," Jack said, and gave the boys a warning glance. "Remember: stay off the ratlines, and out of the armory. And ask Anatole nice before you start gobbling his pastries, eh?"

"Aren't you going to teach us to use the swords?" Charles asked, his blue eyes pleading.

"Only if your mum permits. An' don't go plaguing her about it. We'll bring it up again after lunch, but if she says no you'll take it with a good grace. She don't need a rascally whelp nippin' at her heels just when she's just startin' to perk up a bit."

"She is, isn't she?" Charles said, brightening. "I wish Anatole had been on the Vaillant. Maybe she wouldn't have been so ill."

"Well, it's the weather, as much as the food," Jack said. "An' that's been a mixed blessing, as it were. But we'll make St. Claire day after tomorrow, likely enough."

"Come on, Holliday! Let's go ask Anatole for some breakfast! I'm near to starved." Owens gave Jack a brief, smiling salute, and then the two boys skittered off. Jack watched them go, a somewhat bemused smile on his own face.

It was hard to believe how much the presence of three small beings had altered the whole atmosphere of the Black Pearl. The girls were kept in his cabin with their mother and their nurse, much of the time, but young Charles, accompanied by Owens, pretty much had the run of the ship, and the mischief the two had managed to get into during the first few days had had Jack cursing the calm weather that had developed to impede their progress toward St. Claire.

That first day, Jack had no more left his cabin to the ladies and gone back on deck when an annoyed Gibbs had come to tell him there was an addition to the casualty list: the boys had been fooling with a pile of weapons that had been used in the raid and Charles had managed to cut a finger of his left hand "near clean off!" With a groan and an oath of exasperation, Jack had descended to the area that was used as an infirmary when occasion demanded, and found the two boys gaping in fascinated horror at the procedures being visited on the injured members of the Pearl's boarding party. Gibbs had, fortunately, been exaggerating, but the cut on the Charles's finger was bad enough to require careful bandaging. Tending to it himself, Jack told the boy he was damned lucky he'd not need it stitched. Charles had not been much dampened by this, and Jack had taken a grim satisfaction in the boy's yelps of startled pain when he'd washed the cut out with rum, although he had to admit the boy was stoic enough during the remainder of the ordeal. Owens had been much more dismayed by the incident and Jack's scolding than young Holliday, and had promised his Captain they'd be more careful from now on.

Owens's definition of "more careful" had not seemed to include keeping his new friend from experiencing the joys of climbing the ratlines, at which he himself was now very proficient. The next morning, Jack had been precipitately summoned from the cargo hold at a blood-curdling shriek, which, on investigation, turned out to have been loosed from the lips of the nurse, Maria, who had come on deck to allow Suzanna and Julietta to "take the air". Suzanna, looking around for her brother, had spotted him clear up in the crow's nest with Owens! Charles waved merrily to her, the neat bandage on his hand white in the morning sunlight. Jack, after an unsuccessful attempt to ease Maria's distress, sent two of his more agile crew members scurrying up to see that Charles got down safely. Lunch that day had been a trial, what with Maria's accusing glare across the table, Lady Margaret's gentle scolding, and Charles Holliday's grumping remarks about being kept "wrapped in cotton wool". Jack had finally shut the boy up by threatening to confine him to quarters for the duration of the voyage if he didn't keep a civil tongue in his head and mind his elders. This had been an idle threat, for Jack felt that Lady Margaret would be driven to bedlam with too much exposure to her high-spirited son. It was quite obvious the boy needed schooling, and Jack was beginning to see why 'Uncle Hugh' had been moved to thrash him. However, in Jack's experience such measures often did more harm than good, and he presently took the boys off to visit with Cotton, whose parrot and expertise in fancy knotwork kept the two busy for the rest of the afternoon.

The remainder of that second day had passed peacefully, if one discounted the little incident that evening during which Jack discovered Owens and all three Holliday children hidden close by, watching the Pearl's crew drinking, and regaling each other with songs and stories that were quite inappropriate for young ears. Maria and Lady Margaret had both fallen asleep early, it seemed. Jack had returned the Hollidays to his cabin, warning the three not to repeat anything they'd heard to their mother or nurse. Charles and Suzanna had nodded sagely, but Miss Julietta was not of an age to understand the concept of discretion. Over the next few days, therefore, Maria and Lady Margaret were occasionally startled at the 'warm' phrases coming from the mouth of their little darling, and Maria took to looking daggers at Jack whenever their paths crossed.

The woman was so forbidding, in fact, that it came as quite a shock to realize, a couple of days later, that Gibbs was actually making up to her! When Jack quizzed him on his suddenly improved appearance, the man admitted that he found the nurse to be a 'fine figure of a woman' and that he'd actually recruited the help of Jack's valet, Alphonse, in getting himself 'cleaned up a bit'. Jack, who had never seen Gibbs take any but the most fleeting interest in the fairer sex, was astounded, and made the mistake of saying so. Gibbs was affronted! And the reason for this was clear: astonishing as it seemed, Maria in some measure, appeared to return his regard. She had taken to conversing with Gibbs whenever she brought the little girls topside for their 'airing', and Charles confided to Jack he'd heard his nurse tell Lady Margaret how "intelligent and personable" a man was Mister Gibbs.

So, what with unusually mild weather, unexpected romance, and the younger set kicking up larks right and left, the voyage home was proving…interesting.

"Captain!" It was O'Brien trotting up the steps, a grin on his face.

"Aye?"

"We've found something you'll like to see in one of those big crates we brought over from the Vaillant. Gibbs wants you to come down."

Jack made his way down into the hold, which was near to bursting with swag again. Just as well they were headed back to St. Claire, and thence to Tortuga. He spotted Gibbs standing next to a crate that had been laid flat in the narrow aisle and opened, the lid propped against an assortment of smaller crates and trunks and packing material scattered about it. As Jack approached, a boxlike shape was revealed within the open crate, painted white but adorned with a vibrantly colorful picture—a landscape with graceful nymphs caught dancing to the unheard music of a roguish-looking Pan playing his pipes.

Gibbs looked up. "It's a musical instrument of some kind, Jack!"

"A harpsichord!" Jack crouched down to run a finger along the beautifully painted wood. "My mother had one, but not one this fine."

"It'll fetch a good price on the market," said Gibbs, "unless you want to keep it."

Jack nodded and looked up at Gibbs. "Harry told us she plays, didn't she? Lord, she'll like this better than any finery I could give her! Have you found any music packed away for it?"

"Not yet, but we'll be looking through a lot of these crates this afternoon, since we've so much time on our hands. Wish the wind would pick up some."

"As do I. We'll be another two or three days getting to St. Claire at this rate. Well, perhaps I'll be appointed fencing master this afternoon. Help keep me mind off Harry."

"Young Charles still pesterin' you, eh?" laughed Gibbs. "He wants keepin' in order, that one does."

"He does, that. Your friend, Miss Maria, still thinks him an innocent babe."

"She does have a soft spot where the little lad's concerned," Gibbs admitted. "I've learned to skirt around that subject with her."

"I can imagine. Too bad his father died, just when he was most needed. Right poor planning. With a mother as soft as Lady Margaret and a nurse who's blind to his faults, the lad needs a father."

"The boy seems quite taken with you," Gibbs grinned.

Jack grimaced. "Well I ain't available to fill the post, praise be." He stood up. "Pack that up again carefully—they're delicate instruments, harpsichords. Go out of tune every time the weather changes, if I recall."

"Have to hire a harpsichord tuner for Harry, next!" Gibbs grinned.

"Maybe Alphonse can do it. Seems to be able to do most everything else."

"He's a wonder, that man. Between him an' Anatole, I have a newfound regard for the Frenchies. Temperamental, though. Thought Anatole was going to go after young Charles with his big carving knife yesterday. Maria was pretty upset to see it."

Jack gave a short laugh. "Thinks the boy's bein' starved, I suppose, and has every right to be snabbling sweets that took hours to make, all without a by-your-leave. And, what's worse, gettin' Owens to help 'im."

Gibbs shook his head, and smiled. "Owens has a streak o' mischief in 'im, too, seemingly. Just needed a little push to bring it out."

"Aye. I'm glad to see it, though, considering. He's come a long way since Santo Christobal."

"That he has," Gibbs agreed, thinking of the pale, dirty, underfed boy Michael Owens had been then, standing on the starlit beach, his eyes shining up at them when they'd told him they'd take him aboard the Black Pearl. "Still thinkin' of sendin' him off to school?"

Jack shrugged. "Maybe. He's not too taken with the idea, but what boy would be, after what he's been through: worked half to death and beaten black and blue on the whim of a Spanish harpy, then livin' the free an' easy life of a pirate. But he'd do well, if we could find the right sort of place for 'im."

"Maybe a place with young Charles, eh?" suggested Gibbs.

Jack nodded. "The thought crossed my mind. I'm going to speak with Harry about it, in fact." He sighed. "Wish the wind would pick up. Now that we're headed that way I'm getting' right anxious to see her."