A/N Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far.
Chapter Two
I spent the rest of my five weeks at the manor with the fifteen year old boy, washed up on our beach. It was considered highly improper, and my mother was particularly appalled with my spending time with the 'stable boy'. Roberto too was interested, but only for a day or two, then he found a new hobby of bird hunting.
The boy was grooming the horses when I first arrived.
"She's called Pixie." I told him.
He grinned.
"And the other one, that's Daemon." I continued. Daemon was a frisky mare that Roberto rode, and Pixie was mine.
"Morning Theodora." He said.
I scowled. "Call me Theo."
"Alright Theo." He said, ruffling my golden locks.
"Oy, the maid spent hours on that!"
He laughed.
"So where are you from?"
He shrugged. "It don't matter now, I'm here."
"What about your family?" I asked.
He shrugged again, and turned to Daemon. He jumped up on him, without a saddle and began to spur the horse on.
"No! No, Jack, don't. You're not allowed to ride." I said, miserably.
But it was too late, the groom came in to see what the noise was about. He screamed angrily at the sight of Jack riding, let alone riding without a saddle. He pulled Jack from the horse, and threw him to the ground.
He began to beat Jack, and I cried in fear. But as I watched through the slits in my fingers, Jack pushed himself up, and began to fight back. Here he was a fifteen year old boy, fighting and winning a thirty two year old groom.
Jack eventually threw the groom against the stable wall before turning to me. It was then I began to doubt who he really was. I ran away in fear, not that Jack would hurt me, but because I was scared of what he had just done.
The incident wasn't reported. The groom decided to let it go, it was far too embarrassing to admit to being beaten by a fifteen year old scrawny lad washed up on the beach. But from that point, my picture of Jack changed. He wasn't a lost lonely soul, who had perhaps been the son of a merchant or ship builder. Jack was someone who had seen violence in his life, had had to fight to survive. The sea had served up an endless mystery in the unpenetrable form of Jack Sparrow.
On my last day I went to say goodbye, I blinked back my tears, as I didn't want him to see a weakness in me. But I secretly envied the loud overbearing Roberto.
The carriage took us back to London. And once there Jack was only mentioned once, as a nice exciting story to tell our guests about the coast and promote the kindness of our kin in Cornwall. A governess was engaged for me, and I was taught various subjects including maths and geography, none which I found very interesting. The only thing I liked was history.
And the years wound on, we received letters from our cousins, and Mary Jane, her husband and their son Roberto visited us one summer, but that was all we heard. And as I grew older the activities of London, the dos and don'ts of a young lady and my busy life threw all thought of Jack from my mind. I was ten, and Roberto twelve, when we returned to the coast. And by that time, Jack Sparrow had left. He had just got up one morning and walked out, without a word of gratitude or goodbye, he had left, with no word as to where he was going, or if he would be back.
The idea of never seeing him again upset me, but I could hardly remember him, as Roberto and I wondered once more into the caves.
"Do you reckon there really is treasure behind these rocks?" I asked him.
He laughed. "That was an old story gramps made up, honestly Theo, you need to grow up!"
"Bet he didn't make it up."
"Of course he did."
I rested against the boulder that barred our way through the caves. But as I rested against it, it moved ever so slightly. Roberto pushed me out of the way, and flung his weight against the rock, it began to move, he continued to push, and I helped him.
Eventually we had moved it enough to see behind it. There was just an open space, like a large store room. Roberto turned away in disgust. But I looked further into the room, my eyes adjusting to the dark, and there in the black I saw something glimmer. I bent down and reached behind the boulder, groping in the dark to find the source of the glimmer. I reached as far as I could go, and was about to pull my arm back when my fingers closed around something round and cold.
Noticing that Roberto had left, I ran after him out of the cave, still clutching my hand around the thing I had discovered. Once in the light, I opened my hand, to reveal a single gold piece. Roberto tried to snatch it from me, but I closed my fist before he got a chance.
"Where'd you get that?" He demanded.
"From the cave." I said. At one time there must have been hordes of treasure behind that boulder, up until recently too. No way two children could have moved that boulder, not unless it had only just been moved. So when we were in the caves, those five years previously, we had been standing roughly a yard away from a fortune.
Chapter Two
I spent the rest of my five weeks at the manor with the fifteen year old boy, washed up on our beach. It was considered highly improper, and my mother was particularly appalled with my spending time with the 'stable boy'. Roberto too was interested, but only for a day or two, then he found a new hobby of bird hunting.
The boy was grooming the horses when I first arrived.
"She's called Pixie." I told him.
He grinned.
"And the other one, that's Daemon." I continued. Daemon was a frisky mare that Roberto rode, and Pixie was mine.
"Morning Theodora." He said.
I scowled. "Call me Theo."
"Alright Theo." He said, ruffling my golden locks.
"Oy, the maid spent hours on that!"
He laughed.
"So where are you from?"
He shrugged. "It don't matter now, I'm here."
"What about your family?" I asked.
He shrugged again, and turned to Daemon. He jumped up on him, without a saddle and began to spur the horse on.
"No! No, Jack, don't. You're not allowed to ride." I said, miserably.
But it was too late, the groom came in to see what the noise was about. He screamed angrily at the sight of Jack riding, let alone riding without a saddle. He pulled Jack from the horse, and threw him to the ground.
He began to beat Jack, and I cried in fear. But as I watched through the slits in my fingers, Jack pushed himself up, and began to fight back. Here he was a fifteen year old boy, fighting and winning a thirty two year old groom.
Jack eventually threw the groom against the stable wall before turning to me. It was then I began to doubt who he really was. I ran away in fear, not that Jack would hurt me, but because I was scared of what he had just done.
The incident wasn't reported. The groom decided to let it go, it was far too embarrassing to admit to being beaten by a fifteen year old scrawny lad washed up on the beach. But from that point, my picture of Jack changed. He wasn't a lost lonely soul, who had perhaps been the son of a merchant or ship builder. Jack was someone who had seen violence in his life, had had to fight to survive. The sea had served up an endless mystery in the unpenetrable form of Jack Sparrow.
On my last day I went to say goodbye, I blinked back my tears, as I didn't want him to see a weakness in me. But I secretly envied the loud overbearing Roberto.
The carriage took us back to London. And once there Jack was only mentioned once, as a nice exciting story to tell our guests about the coast and promote the kindness of our kin in Cornwall. A governess was engaged for me, and I was taught various subjects including maths and geography, none which I found very interesting. The only thing I liked was history.
And the years wound on, we received letters from our cousins, and Mary Jane, her husband and their son Roberto visited us one summer, but that was all we heard. And as I grew older the activities of London, the dos and don'ts of a young lady and my busy life threw all thought of Jack from my mind. I was ten, and Roberto twelve, when we returned to the coast. And by that time, Jack Sparrow had left. He had just got up one morning and walked out, without a word of gratitude or goodbye, he had left, with no word as to where he was going, or if he would be back.
The idea of never seeing him again upset me, but I could hardly remember him, as Roberto and I wondered once more into the caves.
"Do you reckon there really is treasure behind these rocks?" I asked him.
He laughed. "That was an old story gramps made up, honestly Theo, you need to grow up!"
"Bet he didn't make it up."
"Of course he did."
I rested against the boulder that barred our way through the caves. But as I rested against it, it moved ever so slightly. Roberto pushed me out of the way, and flung his weight against the rock, it began to move, he continued to push, and I helped him.
Eventually we had moved it enough to see behind it. There was just an open space, like a large store room. Roberto turned away in disgust. But I looked further into the room, my eyes adjusting to the dark, and there in the black I saw something glimmer. I bent down and reached behind the boulder, groping in the dark to find the source of the glimmer. I reached as far as I could go, and was about to pull my arm back when my fingers closed around something round and cold.
Noticing that Roberto had left, I ran after him out of the cave, still clutching my hand around the thing I had discovered. Once in the light, I opened my hand, to reveal a single gold piece. Roberto tried to snatch it from me, but I closed my fist before he got a chance.
"Where'd you get that?" He demanded.
"From the cave." I said. At one time there must have been hordes of treasure behind that boulder, up until recently too. No way two children could have moved that boulder, not unless it had only just been moved. So when we were in the caves, those five years previously, we had been standing roughly a yard away from a fortune.