AN: Wow! Here I am back again. And let me tell you, it's good to be back. Over the weekend my friend and I went on a short little vacation to Disney World. We saw the best thing in the whole wide world there. Well, at least at MGM. The figurine on the bulkhead of the Black Pearl was there! So was Barbossa'a costume! smiles I was so happy! Anyway, enjoy!
"History defines who you are because it tells you who you've been."
Silver and Gold
Chapter Eleven: Adjustments
She hadn't wanted to go. She hadn't wanted to get all dressed up and play pretend. She hadn't wanted to play nice with people she didn't know. But now, despite her wishes, she sat amongst a small group of men and women her grandparents had invited over.
The dinner had been grand. The amount of food that had been used to feed the dozen people had almost shocked Lor. She hadn't even used that much food on the Sui Generis. Now she sat there, staring down at a dessert, the name of which she couldn't even pronounce.
Lor poked at the small cake, her lip curling up slightly. A wrinkled hand touched hers lightly, causing her to look up into her grandfather's eyes. He smiled slightly, a knowing smile. Lor smiled back, placing the small silver fork down beside her plate.
She looked around the table, gazing at each of the guests in turn. At first she looked at he cousin. He looked about as bored as she felt. He kept his face a mask, talking heartily with the girl next to him.
The girl sitting next to him, however, seemed completely enraptured by his words. The girl, Sarah Clarke she believed her name was, was a young woman of eighteen. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a proper bun, small ringlets outlining her face. She sat properly, nodding at the right moments during their conversation.
Lor smiled slightly. She knew the look on the girl's face; she'd worn that look before. The girl was in love. What's more, Sarah seemed to be in love with Lor's cousin. She'd have to make a note to talk to her later.
Lor's eyes flicked to the man sitting next to Sarah Clarke, a man by the name of Lord Stevenson. He was eating slowly, taking small bits of the cake each time. He was listening intently to whatever her uncle was saying. The man was well into his thirties, most likely close to the same age as Jack. His black hair was tied back with a loose scarlet ribbon; a bunch of lace was hanging at his throat. He was an attractive man with a kind face. His eyes were what gave him away.
His dark eyes bore deep in their depths a form of cruelty she had only seen in one other man, a man that had been dead for two years. Lor felt a shiver run down her spine as the man's attention turned to her. The man smiled at her, raising his wine glass at her. Lor nodded slightly, keeping her face neutral.
Lor turned away from him, her eyes scanning the rest of the table. The rest of the people she knew nothing about. Nothing except for the fact that they were friends of her grandfather's or uncle's. Most were elderly men and women; each dressed stylishly in the latest fashions.
An arm brushed her shoulder, causing her to look up sharply. A maid picked up the dessert dish slowly, muttering, "Sorry, ma'am."
Lor smiled slightly. "S'okay," she whispered.
The woman looked startled for a moment, and then smiled, walking away from the table carrying two plates.
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Sarah Clarke stood silently by herself, her hands twisting the small handkerchief slowly.
"Nervous?" Lor asked, stepping up beside her.
Sarah jumped slightly, her hand going to her chest. "Oh, Miss Adams. I did not hear you approach."
Lor smiled. "I did not mean to startle you. You seem so nervous and out of place."
"Oh, no, Miss Adams, I'm just waiting for my mother. She should be along momentarily."
"Ah, I see," Lor said, adjusting her long sleeves, "Is that why your eyes have been following my cousin around the entire room?"
Sarah's jaw dropped slightly, her eyes widening. "I haven't. . . I wasn't. . . I mean. . ."
Lor laughed, "It is okay, Miss Clarke. I'm sure no one else has noticed, least of all Tyler. Your secret is safe with me."
Sarah sighed, playing with a small ringlet that hung in her face. Her eyes scanned the room for a moment, and then flicked back to Lor. "It does not matter how I feel, he could never second those emotions. Besides, his father, Lord Adams, would never allow us to be together even if he did care about me which he doesn't so I do not think I have any hope of ever having him return how I feel," she babbled.
Lor's eyebrows rose at the girl's words. She hadn't heard someone blubbering on like that since . . . well since she did it as a child. "I think you should breathe my dear. I assure you that I am the only one who noticed. Now, tell me, are you attending Lady Cabot's party for her daughter in a week?"
"Oh, um, yes. Yes I am."
Lor smirked. "Good. I believe I could arrange for him to dance with you," at the look that crossed Sarah's face, she continued hurriedly. "Only if you would like."
"I don't know," Sarah replied, looking down at her still twisting hands.
Before Lor could reply, Lord Stevenson walked up to them, placing his hand gently on her elbow. "May I have a moment of your time, Miss Adams?"
Lor looked up into his dark eyes, a shiver once again running down her spine. "Of course, sir," she replied and then turned back to Sarah. "It was a pleasure meeting you Miss Clarke; I will speak with you more later."
Sarah merely nodded, watching as Lord Stevenson led Lor away.
"Miss Adams," he started, leading them slowly into her grandfather's study, "I was wondering if you would honor me with your presence for lunch on my boat in two days."
Lor's heart thumped. This man wasn't seriously trying to ask her something this ridiculous. She fought back a grimace, attempting to keep her face blank.
"I . . . um. . . I'm not sure, sir. I am very flattered, but. . ."
Stevenson's eyes narrowed, gazing down at her. "I see," he said slowly, his voice low. "Let me know of your decision."
Lor nodded slightly, her own eyes narrowing. "Of course sir, I will."
Without another word, Stevenson turned on his heel and left the study, his long blue jacket flowing behind him. Lor stood silently for a moment, her eyes staring at the open door. She shook her head, sighing. "Pompous moron," she muttered, turning around and looking at the books lining the walls. "God, why are all men such idiots?"
"What do you think you are doing?" a deep voice said behind her.
Lor gazed over her shoulder as the door was closed. Her uncle stood there, his face a mask of anger. "What are you talking about?"
"Lord Stevenson," Gregory said, "invited you to have lunch with him."
"Yes," Lor said slowly, "and I told him I would let him know of my decision."
"He has already spoken to me about your rude behavior," he replied. "And I have already told him that you would be glad to accept."
Lor turned around quickly, her skirts rustling and the girdle pinching her sides. "You what?"
"You will dine with Lord Stevenson on his boat."
"I do not believe I said that I would go."
"Lord Stevenson is a fine man. Any woman would be proud to dine with him."
"I am not any woman," Lor replied angrily. "And I thank you very much but I will make my own choices."
"You will dine with him, my dear, since you are indebted to this family."
"I'm sorry?" Lor asked incredulously.
"My father saved you from the gallows where he should have left you."
Lor stared at him as if he were crazy. "So you believe that I owe you because your father saved my life? I would hate to see how you treat the rest of your family."
"You are not family," Gregory gritted out.
Lor's eyes narrowed at him, her eyes turning into dark gold orbs filled with barely contained anger. "And yet my father was your brother."
"He was no brother to me," Gregory said. "He was a thief, a black heart, and a coward."
Lor's fists clenched at her sides. "You have no right."
"I have every right," he replied, walking up to her. "He betrayed this family."
She shook her head. "You have no right to speak of him like that."
"Your father was a coward afraid of his life so he ran away to. . ."
Lor's fist connected with his jaw, sending him falling backward into a wooden table, breaking it in half.
"Do not ever speak of my father like that again," she said angrily, her eyes blazing. "He was a good man. A better man than you could ever be. If you ever try to demean him again, I swear I will not hesitate to shoot you where you stand."
"How dare you. . ." Gregory said heatedly, scrambling to stand up.
"I dare, you bastard, because I am not afraid of you. I have faced men like you before. Hell, I've killed men like you before," she said angrily. "I have killed men for less than this. Do not tempt me!"
"I should have you arrested. . ." Gregory began.
"Then do so!" Lor exploded.
Suddenly the door opened, Jeremy stepping inside the room. "What is going on in here?"
"Your granddaughter attacked me!"
"You deserved it!"
"Grandfather? Father? Is everything all right?" Tyler asked, entering the room slowly, glancing from one person to the next.
Jeremy touched Lor's shoulder gently. "I am not sure what happened, but I am sure. . ."
"No! He deserved it! You would never understand, you could never understand."
"What did I do, hurt your pride?" Gregory sneered. "Your father was not. . ."
Lor lunged at him, her eyes blazing. Before she could reach him, Tyler stopped her, grabbing her around the waist, pulling her to him.
"Calm down Lor," Jeremy whispered. "Do not let him get to you."
"Let me go," Lor gritted out.
"No, not until you calm down. Please, you are causing a scene," Tyler whispered.
"Let me go. If you do not let me go, I will kill him," Lor muttered.
"No, you. . ." Tyler started.
Without warning, Lor lifted her arm, elbowing Tyler in the cheek with enough force to knock him sideways, releasing her in the process. Lor turned around quickly, pushing past Jeremy and rushing out of the study, ignoring the men and women staring after her.
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Lor threw open the door to the Red Barrel, her eyes taking in the people inside. The occupants of the tavern turned to look up at her as she walked past them. She walked quickly up to the dusty bar and sat down heavily on one of the tall stools, her skirts settling down on the dirty floor.
The bar tender came up to her, his wizened eyes looking her up and down from her bejeweled, curled hair to the ruffled and laced dress. "C'n I 'elp ya, m'lady?"
Lor looked up at him, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. She reached into the sash tied tightly around her waist and pulled out three small coins. Placing them on the counter, she pushed the coins toward the man.
"Give me whatever these'll buy."
The man picked up the coins hesitantly and looked down at them. His eyes widened slightly as he looked back up at her. "These could buy the 'ole tavern, lass."
Lor laughed softly. "Just give me some rum."
"Whatever ya say," he replied, pouring the liquid in a mug and handing it to her."
Lor gratefully accepted the mug, bringing it to her lips immediately and taking a long drink from it.
A man sitting next to her laughed and shook his head. "T'ain't no way fer a lady ta drink."
Lor took the mug from her lips, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her dress. "So people keep tellin' me. I guess it's a good thing I'm not a lady."
The older man looked her up and down and then sneered. "Look like one ta me lass."
Lor glanced over at him. "Appearances can be deceivin' sir. You, on the other hand, are exactly what you appear to be."
"And what is that?"
She looked him directly in the eyes, her gold eyes flashing. "A pirate."
The man stared at her and then laughed. "Now, why would ye believe that I be a pirate?" he asked.
Lor smirked. "Pirates stick together. We always know each other."
"We, lass?" he said incredulously and then turned to the barkeep. "'Ey Wolfe! She believes she's a pirate!" he exclaimed.
The two men laughed loudly. Lor rolled her eyes and then unbuttoned her sleeve, pulling up the fabric, revealing the small P on her wrist. "I believe nothin' mates."
The men stared at her for a moment, the laughter dying on their lips. "You look funny fer a pirate."
Lor rolled her eyes again, taking another drink from her mug. "Long story."
The man nodded slowly, accepting her answer. "Name's Coil, pleasure ta make yer acquaintance."
Lor looked over at him again, her eyes tracing his grizzled features. Now that she thought about it, he reminded her a lot of Gibbs. "Lor Adams," she replied, inclining her head towards him.
"Well, Miss Adams. . ."
"Captain," Lor interrupted.
Coil drew back. "What?"
"Captain, its Captain Adams."
"A lass young as you? Incredible feat. Kinda makes one wonder why yer playin' dress up 'stead o' captainin' yer ship."
Lor's eyes flicked over to him. "I don't think tha's any o' yer business, sir," she said, her voice low.
Coil raised his hand slightly in a complacent gesture, recognizing the undertone in her voice. "Aye, lass, I understand," he said, smiling into his half-empty mug.
"Wait a minnit," Wolfe said, setting down the mug he had been cleaning and looking up at Lor. "Lor Adams? 'Aven't I 'eard o' ye before?"
Lor shrugged. "Depends on what you've heard."
"Daughter o' Black Adams," Wolfe stated matter of factly. "An' recently yer name and Jack Sparrow's name's've been linked together."
A smile crossed Lor's face, exotic memories floating through her mind. "So you've heard that, eh?" she asked.
"O' course! Nothin' Sparrow does goes unnoticed."
"Yes, well, we've 'ad our moments."
Lor's ears pricked up as the door behind her opened. She tilted her head sideways slightly, catching a shadowed glimpse of the man that entered as he sat down. Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the men next to her.
"So tell me lass, did 'e really escape from tha' island usin' sea turtles?" Coil asked, leaning into her.
Lor coughed, covering her mouth with her free hand. She swallowed quickly, glancing over at him. "S'not fer me ta answer. Can' say that I know."
"Surely ye know somethin'. Most only know rumors an' stories. Someone as close ta 'im as you. . ."
Lor laughed silently to herself. "Can' say that I know anymore than most people. Keeps things close ta the vest, he does," she replied, grinning wickedly.
"If ye know so much about 'im, lass," a new voice chimed in, footsteps coming up behind her. "Then enlighten us as to what kinda lover 'e is."
Lor's grin widened. She knew that voice. She turned around on the stool, twisting her skirts around her. She gazed up into the man's eyes, her gold orbs filled with humor. "Sparrow as a lover? Could be better."
"Ah, you wound me, love."
Lor's grin turned seductive. "Hello, Jack."
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DON'T FORGET!!! The contest for the preview to the first chapter of the third story in the Sui Generis series is still going on! The submitted articles should be a poem or scene that includes Jack and Lor as the main characters. You should submit them via e-mail to PirateGyrl at aol.com. The contest will continue until the end of Silver and Gold. The winner of this contest will receive the chapter via e-mail when SaG is complete. In the subject space, type "Lor/Jack contest" so I know what the e-mail is about. Remember, it's no fun if no one enters the contest! I hope you all participate!
Next: Chapter 12: The Red Barrel.
Dawnie-7: Thank you! I'm glad you liked the chapter!
PED-sarah: I understand about the lack of inspiration. But, I too am working on some stories on the side. But mostly just a Harry Potter one. But also some short one-shots that I plan to post sometime soon. I hope you continue to read! PS. I hope this chapter was long enough! I had so much I needed to write and do in this chapter!
DaydreamBeliever14: I understand. I haven't had a chance to read my author alerts either. sighs, lowering head I feel so bad.
NazgulGirl: Thank you very much!
PineAppleLint: Thank you very much! I thought the whole thing with him being her protector was good too. I thank you so much for liking my chapter and my whole story! I hope you keep reading!