Broken Faith

Disclaimer: I own Henri, a pub, a ship, and a cottage. Notice how none of them appeared in the actual movie. That's because they're mine and I don't own the movie.

OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E

Chapter 18: Pirate

Elizabeth stomped back to her room, throwing various and sundry items into a rather large trunk. The first things to go in were anything that was even remotely connected with Jack: the scraps on linen that he had brought her, the pirate books and maps, the compass that he had left sitting on her table one night and refused to take back. Elizabeth picked it up and opened it. A compass that didn't point north.

"Why don't you want it back, Jack?" she had asked.

He had shrugged, sprawled in the kitchen as he usually was. "Never going back, love."

Elizabeth placed the compass between the folds of a petticoat, covering it gently. Turning, she scanned the room for any other artifacts. Satisfied that there were none, Elizabeth turned to her other belongings. In went Will's hat and jacket, his sword, his small knife, his wedding band, several of her petticoats and dresses, the pearl necklace Will had saved up to buy her. He had given it to her the day he sailed away.

"Will, it's beautiful." She smiled up at him, her fingers resting on the strand of small pearls.

Will smiled shyly at her. "Almost as beautiful as you are."

"Will, you're making me blush." Elizabeth looked down, then up coquettishly. "Come back to me, love."

"Always."

She stared at it for a moment, the small opalescent pearls glowing softly against the linen of the gown. She reached back into the trunk and took them out. Kissing the strand softly, she strung it around her neck. She might love Jack now, but it was not the same. Will was her first love, her true love, and as fiery or passionate as any subsequent affair, part of her heart would always belong to the shy blacksmith who had won it first.

The pearls around her neck, she surveyed the room for anything else she might need. She couldn't take anything from any other part of the house- Gillette would surely notice, and it would give the impression that she had something to hide, something worth running for. Jack the pirate king was certainly something worth running for.

Poking her head out the bedroom door, Elizabeth caught sight of a young soldier. He was 18 if he was a day, and a young 18 at that.

"Soldier." Elizabeth motioned him over. The soldier glanced about, then determined who was calling him.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I need someone to help me get my things up to my father's. I don't know how long I shall be there, so there is a fair amount of items."

"Certainly, ma'am. I shall have to go to Lt. Gillette to ask permission."

"Very well. I shall be in the parlor." Elizabeth swept out of the room toward the 'parlor', which was little more then a few chairs and a loveseat squashed together near the entryway.

The soldier returned in ten minutes, with Henri trailing him.

"Lisette, my dear. Let us get your trunk to your father's. I am terribly sorry about all of this. The lieutenant asked to apologize, and-"

"Mrs. Turner?" the young soldier had been standing in the corner, and was looking toward the door.

"Yes?" Elizabeth tried not to let the frustration with Henri seep through her voice.

"There's someone who wants to see you."

"Show them in." Elizabeth sank into a nearby chair, cradling her head in her hands. She heard several voices in the hallway, and they seemed to be discussing something, though to judge by the escalation of volume, it was not the most friendly of discussions. Suddenly, Elizabeth snapped.

"For God's sake, come in if you are going to come in or leave if you are not! All I want is my house back to myself, with no soldiers here as though I were under arrest."

"What an apt statement, Mrs. Turner." Lt. Gillette stepped through the door into the parlor. "I was about to inform you of your suspected involvement in the escape of Jack Sparrow. We suspect you have been harboring him, as well as aiding and abetting him. We will be taking you down to the fort for some questioning and-"

"You will not!" Elizabeth attempted to shake off the hand that held her wrist in a vice-like grip. Gillette simply clamped down harder, pulling her slightly off of the seat. Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from crying out and stared up at him, anger flashing through her eyes. "Let go." She said in a low voice.

"Lisette, it would be good if you would do as the lieutenant says." Henri said, his voice low to match hers, but with a menacing quality that she had lacked.

"Lt. Gillette, you will let her go now. As an officer in His majesty's Royal Navy, I should think you would know better." Captain Groves stepped through the doorway. Gillette and Henri whirled around to see who had walked in. In doing so, Gillette wrenched Elizabeth's wrist. She cried out.

"Dear God, man. Let her go." Groves gripped Gillette by the collarbone and whipped him away from her. Elizabeth sank back down into the chair, rubbing her wrist, which had turned very pale and was slowly regaining color, until it was bright red. "Soldier." Groves motioned to the lad who was still standing in the corner. "Please bring the lieutenant back to the fort. I want him placed in his office with the door locked, and two sentries outside the door. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." The soldier held Gillette by the elbow. Gillette shook the hand off, a look of disgust on his face. Suddenly, he turned to Henri.

"You rat. You were afraid I would reveal your identity, and then you turn around and reveal mine. Fine. Here's what this pompous ass didn't want you to know, Captain." Gillette spit out the word captain like a dirty word. "This is Henri d'Alphonse, nee Adrian Lyon, nee the captain of the frigate Boston. This is the bastard that killed your friend, Groves. He was supposed to bring me Sparrow, proving you to be incompetent, giving me the captaincy that should have been mine! It was mine, but Norrington always liked you better. There was no earthly reason that you should have received that commission, Theodore, and you know it! It was mine by right."

"Wait, this is the Frenchman?" Groves asked.

"Dammit, that's what I said, isn't it?" Gillette was turning red in the face from screaming so much. "I'm sure he's told you all about how he was going to turn over Sparrow to me and in exchange he was getting his reward for killing the Commodore and a letter of marque."

"You would betray your own country like that? You would betray James like that?" Groves looked disgusted.

"He betrayed me, the bastard."

"Where were you going to get a letter of marque? You can't issue them."

"The French would have reinstated d'Alphonse's marque, if paid enough."

"How- no, no. Soldier, get this man back to the fort now. Throw him in solitary confinement, three guards. If what he's saying is true, then we'll have to investigate most of the men stationed here." Groves rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Take him away."