Yet again, usual disclaimers apply throughout this tale. If you recognise it, it probably belongs to the Mouse – else it is mine!

Chapter 23 – The Party

Year 2 - Late October

The evening of the party came too quickly for the conspirators, but Jack was as ready as he would ever be and everyone prayed nothing would go wrong. Jack and Theodore fidgeted in the hallway waiting for Catherine to join them. At last they could hear footsteps. Catherine stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at them and smiling. Jack gulped, willing his body to stillness. She looked incredible, especially as he had only seen her in plain, sombre-coloured dresses before. She was a vision in scarlet silk brocade edged with lace, tight at the waist with three-quarter length sleeves and a modest neckline. He noticed she was wearing both the pearl earrings and the pearl necklace that he knew she never took off.

Even Theodore stared at his sister. "You look delightful Catherine, and your timing is impeccable." A carriage clattered to a stop outside of the house. "If we are ready..." She took her brother's arm and walked with him to where the carriage waited. Jack followed behind, eagerly anticipating the evening's promised entertainment.

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Jack leaned contentedly against the wall, watching the manoeuvres and posturing of the notables of Port Royal. The Roseridge heir, Damian, was there, but had failed to recognise him. So had everyone who, he hoped, could possibly be a threat. A number of young, gawking officers had asked Catherine for a dance, but Lieutenant Gillette had thankfully not approached her. James Norrington walked across the room, standing next to him.

"Quite the social occasion, Commodore Norrington," Jack complimented, carefully ensuring that he maintained his American accent.

James Norrington frowned. "Not dancing, Mister Wells?" He had danced with a number of the ladies present that evening and was hoping for an opportunity to dance with Catherine soon.

"Maybe later, when my two left feet have had a chance to get acquainted," Jack joked, cautious of showing his gold teeth. "Although perhaps I should make haste to ask Mistress Reyes before your young officers fill her evening." He could see her looking around for her brother, who was talking politely with the Governor. She glanced at Jack, smiled, and walked over to stand primly before them.

"Commodore, Mister Wells," she said softly.

"Mister Wells was just summoning the courage to ask you to dance Mistress Reyes, but perhaps I should beat him to it," the Commodore smiled.

Sensing a challenge, Jack could not resist. "Mistress Catherine?" Jack bowed, offering his hand, for it was a tune Jack knew and one he could dance reasonably well. "Sir" she murmured, her eyebrows coyly warning him to keep his roving hands under control, noting the Commodore's cheek tic at Jack's use of her Christian name.

James Norrington watched Catherine dance with Thomas Wells. He had been so sure he knew the man, but his dancing was fluid, graceful, assured – how could a pirate have known that? This man could not be the person he had thought – could it? He had been so nearly sure, but he could not just ask the man to show his forearm – especially if he was truly Mister Thomas Wells it would be an terrible insult. Although if he was right, how would he explain to young James that he was about to hang his hero – the hero to whom he owed the boy's life. Unsure, the Commodore rubbed the bridge of his nose, mind whirring. But Mistress Reyes had told Lieutenant Gillette he was dead? Ack! Why did even thinking about Jack Sparrow always give him a headache?

"Not dancing, Commodore?" Elizabeth quietly came and stood next to him, having seen him frowning at Jack. "Perhaps I may have the next dance?"

"I'd be delighted Mistress Turner," he smiled. Sparrow or not, the problem could wait until the morning.

Elizabeth carefully steered him to the other side of the dance floor, well away from the subject of his gaze.

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The dance finished and Jack and Catherine left the dance floor heading towards the heavily laden refreshment table, and then into the quiet of the garden carrying a delicate cut crystal goblet of wine each. A number of young couples strolled about discretely kissing, but Jack led Catherine to the darker shade of one of the arbours. "When I leave t'night, I want yer t' come with me," he said quietly. "Be m' woman Kitty... please."

"I cannot..." He could see the indecision in her face, tears welling in her eyes as she bit her lip. She put her goblet down on the bench. "I cannot bring the shame upon my brother... he has been so good to me, since everything, helped me..." She shut her eyes, as if reciting the words by memory.

"Stop making excuses, Kitty. I'm not leavin' without yer," Jack argued. "I'd abduct yer if I thought it would work," he sighed.

"But I cannot be your woman, Jack," Catherine cried, sniffing as tears ran down her face.

"What shame is there in going with me?" Jack puzzled, handing her his lacy handkerchief. "I'd keep yer safe - on m' honour luv!" he vowed.

Catherine looked at him miserably, shaking her head. "I cannot shame my family..." she wept.

"Yet yer happy enough fer me t' visit yer at night," he argued. "An' fer yer brother t' know of it!"

"But to go with you would be to openly admit my shame," she said quietly.

Jack blinked, looking at her in confusion. "An' pray what shame would that be?" he asked, unsure of her objections.

Catherine looked up at him tearfully. "To admit I love a pirate..." she whispered.

"So if yer luv me why will yer not go with me?" he pressed in frustration.

"I cannot," Catherine said, her voice a mere whisper, nearly inaudible over her tears. "I will not shame my family by being your woman."

"T' hell with yer family!" Jack cursed. "What about us?" he demanded.

"I..." she stuttered, utterly miserable, staring at her hands in her lap, unable to talk further through her tears.

"So yer damn us both with yer decision," Jack said bitterly, breaking off their conversation as another couple walked by. He downed the contents of his goblet in one gulp, putting it safely under the bench. He stared up at the stars moodily. The silence dragged until finally he spoke. "Well I'm not leavin' without yer! If I can't abduct yer and yer won't be m' woman then will yer be m' wife? Will that satisfy yer bleedin' family honour?"

Catherine gasped in shock, looking up at him. "Did you just say what I think you said?" she whispered, her face pale in the light of the Chinese paper lanterns that softly lit the garden.

"If that is what it will take t' get yer t' come with me then yes!" He looked intently at her, his eyes demanding an answer. "Well?" he pressed, "will yer come with me as m' wife?"

"I would like to but…" she stuttered, shocked by his offer.

"But what now?" Jack cried in exasperation.

She bit her lip, looking at him, her eyes worried. "I must say something that might affect your offer…" she said cautiously.

"An' what pray tell would that be?" Jack frowned, until he suddenly realised what she was struggling to say. His voice softened. "Is this about yer bein' unable t' have children?" he asked quietly.

"How did you…" she gasped.

"I overheard when you an' Theo argued on board," he admitted. "But it doesn't change m' offer in th' slightest. I want yer as m' wife - an' not havin' children does not matter t' me…" He smiled reassuringly at her. "Will yer be m' wife, Kitty?"

For a moment she sat, biting her lip as she looked at him before smiling shyly. She leaned across and kissed him, nodding through her tears. "Yes," she said quietly. "If you want me… I will."

Jack smiled, brushing her tears away with his thumb as he started to kiss her back, but he broke the kiss and held his fingers to her lips. "Sssshhh," he warned, hearing footsteps crunch nearby.

Somebody was walking towards them along the gravel path – Lieutenant Gillette. He stared at them in shock, their intimacy obvious even to his jealous eyes. "So this is why you rejected my proposal..." he spluttered. "To sit canoodling with a spy! I thought you of a higher class than that, Mistress Reyes..."

Jack's voice cut in dangerously, his hand reaching automatically for a weapon that was not there. "She has more class than you've the wit to appreciate, boy." He rose, offering Catherine his arm but she took his hand instead. He smiled. "I think I should get you home love..." They left the lieutenant spluttering on the path, incandescent with rage behind them as they walked across the grass back to the Governor's house.

Theodore was watching from the shadow of the vine-covered pergola, waiting for Catherine and Jack in the darkness by the large glass French doors. He sighed, noticing they were walking hand in hand, wondering if there had been anything he could have done to prevent what he feared had happened.

"Theo..." Catherine began, but he shook his head sadly.

"You're going with him, aren't you?" he said quietly. "Tonight?"

Catherine nodded. "As his wife," she whispered, standing on tiptoe to kiss her brother on the cheek. "I've a few things to take, then we'll just keep walking." She looked at him sadly. "I'll write..."

She could see he was struggling with what he wanted to say. "Keep her safe Sparrow," he whispered, before turning on his heels and returning to the party, not seeing the hand that Jack cautiously held out to him. Although Theodore was glad that his sister had found love again, he wished it had been with anyone else in the Caribbean, in the entire world, anyone except for Captain Jack Sparrow.

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