Disclaimer: Disney's, mostly. Except for Harry, of course.

Harry & the Pirate: Norrington's Choice
IV. Reunions

Mrs. Henrietta Sparrow, or Lady Harry as she was still known to all and sundry, was extremely anxious to be reunited with her dear, daft, adorable scoundrel of a husband, too. After a six-week honeymoon, culminating in a surprisingly pleasant visit from her brother, Governor Swann, who had come out to St. Claire with the official pardon and Letter of Marque as promised, Harry had waved a determinedly cheery goodbye to the Black Pearl, knowing that, however happy Jack seemed close by her side, the pirate in him needed to be off and ranging abroad on the high seas, feeling the wind in his face and looking for adventure. She, too, had things to which she wanted to attend on the island, and Jack, being solicitous to the point of what she felt was absurdity over her "delicate condition", had increasingly seemed a hindrance to these schemes. They had agreed that time apart would be good for both of them.

However, late on the second night after Jack's departure, Rachel had been padding down the hall past her mistress's bedroom and had caught the sound of muffled sobs issuing from within. The housekeeper had knocked lightly but had entered without more hesitation, for before he'd taken his leave Jack had directed Rachel most straitly to take care of Harry, whether the lady wished it or no.

Harry, hearing her enter, had struggled to sit up in the big bed, snuffling and scrubbing tears from her eyes, and tried to smile. "Oh! N-no, Rachel! Indeed, I am quite all right!" But, seeing the sympathy in the woman's eyes as she'd approached the bed, Harry gave it up and again burst into agonized sobs.

"Lady Harry! No!" Rachel said, sitting beside her and pulling her against her ample bosom, rocking and petting her.

Harry clung to her. "Rachel! Oh God! What am I going to do? He's only been gone two d-days!"

"I know, honey. I know."

After a while, Harry's sobs had lessened, and Rachel said to her, "Wouldn't be natural if you didn't miss him, honey, but he'll be back and 'til he is you need to take care of yourself and that baby, and keep busy! Now what would he think about you carrying on like this?"

"He'd be s-sorry he'd married m-me!" Harry said, "And I d-don't blame him. We should never have d-done it!"

Rachel set her mistress a little away from her at this and gave her a slight shake. "No he wouldn't! He's missing you just as much as you miss him, and, well, this'd just break his heart. But you can't hold him like that! You know you can't!"

"No," said Harry, morosely. She took the handkerchief Rachel was offering her and wiped her face and blew her nose. "What a horrible watering pot I've become. I never used to cry." She looked at Rachel. "Do you really think he misses me? Out on the sea like that?"

"What do you think? You were fine 'til you came to bed, weren't you? And then you started remembering."

Harry smiled a little, and nodded. "And…he's sleeping in the cabin. Where we first…um…" Harry looked up at Rachel with a sly look and a blush.

"Now don't you go telling me about that," Rachel said, laughter in her voice. "Might be too much for me. It's already a warm night." She fanned herself in an exaggerated fashion.

Harry laughed.

"That's better," Rachel smiled. "Now you come with me and we'll wash your face and get you a fresh nightgown. You'll get a good night's sleep, and come morning things'll look brighter. There's plenty to keep you busy, even taking it a little easier like you should. And before you know it he'll be home again, pestering you to recline on that chaise by the window or to set yourself on the veranda with a cool drink and some knitting."

"You're right," Harry said, feeling more cheerful now. "If I'm going to get any of my projects done I need to do it while he's gone! He seems to think I'll break!"

Rachel smiled, but did not reply to this. It was all too close to the truth. One night a few weeks after the bridal pair had returned to St. Claire, Harry had gone off to bed early and Jack had stayed up late in the library, talking and telling outlandish stories with Elizabeth and Will Turner, and drinking far more excellent St. Claire rum than was good for him. Elizabeth had later confided to Rachel the dismaying turn the conversation had taken when Jack had neared the bottom of the bottle and had told them of a very minor but humorous incident from his childhood in which his mother had been mentioned. On concluding it he had suddenly grown rather quiet.

"Y'know," he said, finally, voice soft and slurred with liquor, "th'thinguvid is… I'm bloody scared." He had nodded at his friends, blearily, satisfied at their suitably shocked expressions. "Tha's right: Captain Jack Sparrow. Terror o' th'Spanish Main. Scared. An' it's your fault!" He pointed an unsteady, accusing finger at Elizabeth.

"Jack!" she'd said, as much shaken by the admission as the accusation.

"She's your Aunt!" he said, belligerently. "Would never've known 'er 'fit weren't fer you! Never've…fallen in love with 'er." He thought about this for a long moment, while Elizabeth and Will exchanged startled glances. But then he looked up again and said, "An' if she dies…if she dies…how the…how can I…" His voice trailed off painfully.

"Jack," Will said, in his gentle, reasonable manner, "Harry's not going to die!"

"She might!" he said, almost angrily. "M'mother did. I was twelve. Remember it like yesterday. Maybe thirteen. Anyway…she died. Baby, too. Said it was a boy. Me brother." He gave a bark of bitter laughter and fell silent.

Elizabeth had got up and now sat next to him on the sofa, and took his hand in both of hers. "Jack, my Aunt will be fine! She will!" She had not known what else to say. She believed it to be true, though there was the possibility that fate would make a liar of her. But this could not, under these circumstances, be admitted.

"Promise?" Jack asked, a pleading tone seeping into his voice. He looked at her, his dark gaze blurred with drink, and worry, and old pain.

"I promise!" said Elizabeth, firmly, willing her strength and confidence to be communicated to him somehow.

And it had seemed to work. He'd nodded. "All right, then." His eyes lost focus, briefly. "Think I'll go to bed."

They'd guided him up the stairs and into the bedroom. Will had helped him to undress, while Elizabeth had explained to her sleepily startled Aunt that 'Uncle Jack' had taken a bit too much rum but would be fine in the morning.

"Of course he will!" Harry had murmured, drawing him close as he had climbed in beside her and wrapped himself around her. She had sighed, content, and they had both fallen asleep, oblivious to covers being tucked around them and candles snuffed.

And he had been fine, to all outward appearances. But Rachel understood very well why a solemn expression sometimes came over his face when he watched Harry, and the seriousness underlying his request that she take care of her flighty mistress while he was gone.

The Black Pearl had returned after six weeks, laden with spoils, and the reunion of master and mistress had been ecstatically joyous. They had retired to their bedroom with almost indecent haste and had not emerged until the following evening, looking so happy and relaxed that they had become the subject of much fondly lewd banter during the outdoor dinner party Rachel and her underlings had arranged to welcome the Black Pearl's crew back to St. Claire. The two had paid little heed to the teasing, and, during most of their subsequent days together had added fuel to the fire by taking themselves off to explore the island on horseback, packing along appropriate paraphernalia and foodstuffs to enhance these al fresco interludes. Harry's skin had taken on a golden glow, but only Rachel (and Jack) knew how completely it covered her from head to toe. And she glowed from within, too, blissfully happy with her marriage and her impending motherhood.

Jack took reluctant leave of Harry again, after little more than a week, sailing on to dispose of the swag and thence back out to sea. But he took with him, in his mind's eye, the vision of the wife he was growing to love more with every passing day, and the awareness that she loved him too, in equal measure. It was wonderful, and terrifying, and not something he had ever expected to experience himself, or even really believed could exist in this world, and it came as something of a revelation to him that the stories were true after all.

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

The Black Pearl was sighted heading toward the South Bay nearly two hours before she finally dropped anchor, the wind and weather being uncooperative in the extreme. Harry, dressed in her lightest rose silk and lace, was forbidden by Rachel to go down to the bay to wait, for the heat and humidity were really quite dreadful. Jack's impatient bride reluctantly stayed in the shade of the back veranda until the Pearl was finally drawing into the bay, helped along by the employment of its sweeps. Then, followed by a maid in white linen holding a parasol, another with a jug of cool water and glasses, and a footman bearing a wooden lawn chair, the lady hurried off down the path to the beach and paced the sand while the sweeps were brought in, the sails struck, and a boat lowered away. She was joined by Judah, a crooked smile on his handsome face, Miriam Lightfoot and her daughter Lilian, who had been staying with Harry for a few days, and a number of the plantation's other residents, for during the weeks of The Honeymoon some of the Black Pearl's crew had elected to stay on the island with Jack and Harry, and they had endeared themselves in many ways to St. Claire's people.

Harry was nearly bouncing with excitement as the first longboat approached the shore. She had eyes only for her husband, who seemed of a similar mind, an irrepressible grin on his face. As soon as the boat nosed the sand he jumped out and laughed as Harry ran into the shallow water to meet him, heedless of expensive silks.

After a long, unabashed kiss, the feel of her in his arms like a benediction, Jack said, "You're ruining that dress, you know!"

"Well, at least I remembered to take off my shoes this time!" she returned, her voice husky with emotion.

He kissed her again.

Finally he set her from him a little, and said, "We're going to shock our guest. Come look who I've brought you!"

He moved aside, and she looked at the other passengers in the boat for the first time. A fair lady, who had a small girl seated next to her. The little one's wide blue gaze took in Harry curiously, thumb in mouth, an interesting string of beads clutched in the same hand. But the lady beamed.

"Hullo, Harry!"

Harry gasped. "Maggie?" She abandoned Jack and waded over to the side of the boat, astonishment writ large on her countenance.

Lady Margaret laughed and stood up, moving to embrace her friend. "No one's called me that in years and years!" she said, tears stinging her eyes. "How good it is to hear it again!"

Harry finally released her and demanded, "But Maggie! How is it you are here?" She watched her friend exchange a quizzical glance with Jack, and said, "My God! He did not take your ship!"

"Sank it, actually," Jack said, coming to the side of the boat himself.

"Jack! No!" said Harry, very much shocked.

"Aye. Move out of the way so I can carry Lady Margaret to shore. She don't want to wet her skirts, unlike some hoydens I could name."

Harry obeyed, saying, "But how on earth did it come about? Was it an English ship? Why did you sink her? Was anyone hurt…or killed?"

"It was a French ship," said Jack. He shook a finger at Julietta and said, eyes narrowed, "You stay right there, Miss. Savvy? I'll be back for you in a moment."

Julietta nodded, wide-eyed, and watched her 'Captain Jack' carry Mama to the white sand beach. The strange, brown-haired lady followed them, her wet, pink skirts draped over one arm, slim golden legs exposed to view. Then, while Mama was introduced to the people on the shore, Captain Jack came back to fetch her own small self. She grabbed on and clung to him, allowing her beads to slip down to the crook of her arm. As he carried her to shore she could see, over his shoulder, the second boat approaching, which contained Mr. Gibbs, Maria, her brother and sister and the boy Michael Owens.

Jack carried the little girl to shore, but did not put her down immediately. Lady Margaret turned and smiled at the two.

"Harry, I'd like you to meet my youngest daughter, Julietta."

Harry turned and smiled at the sight of her husband holding the pretty little mite. Julietta had turned to stare at Harry, putting her thumb back in her mouth and keeping her other chubby arm firmly around Jack's neck . "I am very pleased to meet you, Miss Julietta," said Harry, adding, "Those are very beautiful beads! Wherever did you get them?"

Julietta took her thumb out of her mouth long enough to answer, "Captain Jack!", but then turned and hid her face against her hero's neck as Harry and her mother laughed in delight at the little voice.

There were splashing sounds, and Harry looked up to see the two boys, one dark and one as fair as her friend coming toward them. She held out her arms. "Owens! My love!"

The boy grinned, his cheeks reddening at the endearment, but he embraced Harry without hesitation.

Harry gave him a hard hug and then set him a little away, her hands on his arms, and looked him over. "I declare, you have grown at least an inch! Still the best Cabin Boy in the Caribbean?"

This last was addressed to Jack, who nodded. "He'll do." He winked at Owens, when the boy turned to him, and Owens smiled again. "Here, lad, you take Miss Julietta and keep an eye on her while I help the other ladies." He handed the little girl off to Owens. She went with alacrity, for she was nearly as fond of Owens as she was of Jack.

"There's my Ju!" Owens grinned, bouncing her a bit.

"Aye. You can have her," said Charles, tweaking one of the little girl's ringlets. Julietta took her thumb out of her mouth long enough to stick her tongue out at her brother, as she'd seen her older sister do numerous times. 

"Harry, this is my son, Charles," said Lady Margaret, disapproval in her voice.

However, Charles turned and made a neat bow to Harry, saying, "How do you do, Ma'am?" so politely that his mother's annoyance was assuaged.

Harry's eyes twinkled. "Very well, I thank you", she said, laughter in her voice. "I am so pleased to meet you!" She looked out at Jack, lifting Charles's older sister from the boat, and noted how furiously the girl was blushing as he carried her to shore and set her on the sand. "Well," said Harry to Jack, "you have had an interesting voyage, haven't you?"

"You might say that," Jack smiled. "I'll tell you up at the house. It's bloody hot today. You need to get into the shade! Mary!" He motioned to the maid with the parasol, who approached. "Stick close to your mistress and keep her in the shade. She'll end up with a complexion like mine if she's not careful!"

Owens, who had been introducing his new friends to Lillian Lightfoot and her mother, now turned and asked, "Can we go ahead up to the house, Captain?"

"Aye, but leave Miss Julietta with us. You'll end up misplacing her, like as not. Her legs are a bit short to keep up with the likes of you."

Miss Julietta went to her mother willingly, but set up an unseemly howl when she saw the four children run off up the path to Island House. But then Maria was there, shadowed by a beaming Gibbs, and Julietta quieted as her nurse took her up and held her while being introduced to Lady Harry and her friends.

"I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, ma'am," said Maria cooly, nodding at Harry in lieu of a curtsey, ostensibly due to the squirming bundle of little girl she held.

Harry lifted a brow slightly, but smiled and said in her friendly fashion, "And I yours, Miss Maria."  

Satisfied that this introduction had gone as well as could be expected, Jack turned to Judah. "Anamaria's taking care of some things on the ship for me, and packing up. Why don't you go out to the Pearl and surprise her?"

"An excellent idea, Captain," said Judah, and, with a nod to the guests, went to help both boats shove off again before climbing in himself, eyes alight with anticipation.

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

The whole party made its way slowly up the hill to the house. The four children were nowhere to be seen, but Rachel, meeting the group on the back veranda with a smiling face and iced drinks said that they were off to the stables to see the newest addition to the Island House string, a foal that had been born only two days before.

Harry said to Margaret, "You needn't worry: Owens knows the island like the back of his hand. He stayed with us here for weeks after the wedding, you know. My niece, Elizabeth, and her husband William Turner were also here. Do you remember her, Maggie? All eyes and long limbs? She has grown into such a beauty you will not credit it!"

Lady Margaret laughed. "It runs in the family, doesn't it?"

Harry said, "Oh no! She is much more beautiful than ever I was, give you my word!"

"Then she must be a paragon indeed!" said Margaret.

"Well she is," said Harry, "But you need not go on in that style: I was never a match for you, as you well know."

Lady Margaret shook her head. "Doing it too brown, as usual. You haven't changed at all. There is more to beauty than fair hair and a good figure. You have a charm that will stand you in good stead for all your days, long after any beauty I may claim is faded and gone. And in that sense, you and your new husband are a good match: I don't believe I've ever met anyone with more roguish charm in my life!"

Harry smiled, and looked over to where Jack was flirting with Miriam Lightfoot, who was laughing and blushing like a girl. "No. He is quite perfect, isn't he? Did he tell you how we met?"

"No, he said he'd leave that to you." Margaret eyed her friend, whose eyes were sparkling with mirth.

"He bought me at a Bride's Auction, on Tortuga—a dreadful place! I was captured by another pirate, and Weatherby and Elizabeth got wind of it, and then Jack showed up just in time to help rescue me!"

"Oh, my heavens!" said Lady Margaret, faintly. "How horrible! But…well, a thousand questions spring to mind. You will tell me the whole story later, will you not?"

"Yes, of course. And you must tell me everything, too. I take it Holliday died?" Harry said, sympathetically.

"Yes. Yes, I shall tell you about it. But not now." Margaret looked a little uncomfortable.

"Later then," agreed Harry. "But three children! And such pretty ones, too! Little Charles looks very like his father, as I remember him, and the girls will be diamonds of the first water, just as you were!"

"Yes, I fancy they are very pretty, and they are very good girls too. They are both in love with your husband, you know."

Harry laughed. "Well, that goes without saying, does it not? I quite understand how they feel. And he seems to like them, as well, especially Julietta. He will make the most delightful father!"

"Yes, he told me you were increasing!"

Harry nodded. "I'm six and a half months along now." A look of rather devilish amusement came into her eyes at her friend's startled expression. "He told you we were married at the beginning of May, did he?"

"Y-yes. You…you were…"

Harry nodded. "We wouldn't have married, else. It was quite unexpected."

"But…how could it have been?" Lady Margaret asked in disbelief.

"Well, I was married to Wyndham for two years! And never the least sign of a child. But apparently that was his fault, rather than mine as I had thought. It was quite disconcerting when I was brought to realize the situation, and there was a dreadful row when Weatherby found out, as you might imagine. But it all came right in the end and here we are: happily married these four months and the baby due in another two. Or two and a half. I'm not really sure."

Lady Margaret stared, listening to her friend's blithe tone and, when Harry ended the speech, shook her head in amazement. "You are the luckiest woman I know, Harry, to have come out of such a scrape smelling like a rose. My God, do you know how many women would be cast off by their families for such a thing?"

"Oh, yes, but George has done far worse things than this, and Weatherby has simply given up hope of ever making me conform to acceptable standards of behavior, I think. About bloody time, I say!"

"Harry, you are outrageous!" Lady Margaret said, laughing in spite of herself.

"Yes. But Jack likes me that way, so I doubt I shall put myself to the trouble of changing now. Let me show you to your room—the house is really quite lovely!"

And, as comfortable with each other as they had ever been as girls, the two women disappeared into the house.