Finding Grace
By: BelieveInFaeries
Chapter Three: The Truth About Grace
Grace stood staring at the empty hallway long after Will had gone. She wondered why he was so short with her. She had thought him nice. Well, nice enough for a kidnapper she supposed. He could have killed her, or worse. But he hadn't. And while in the alley he had pulled a knife to her throat, he was no where near harming her and only used her to get away.
If the roles were reversed,she might have done the same thing. Perhaps all of his curtness was just because he obviously had a rough day. So she brushed off his rudeness to him being tired and turned to look at her lodgings.
A stiff backed wooden chair, a small cabinet and a even smaller round table was what met her eyes. All of which being nailed to thesomewhat stainedfloor, except the chair wich shepropped against the doorfor extra protection in case one of Captian Sparrow's crew wasn't as nice as he had been. Not that the chair would prove much good against a rather large and determined pirate, but it would give her some warning.
She placed the clothes that Will had lent her on the chair and turned to the cabinet. She opened it finding a open knit hammock folded haphazardly inside. She smiled as she pulled it out. How long had it been since she had slept in one of these? Too long, she decided when she couldn't remember.
She began setting up her bed and allowed her mind to drift of what her crew might be doing at the same moment. Probably being scolded, or worse, by Uncle Frederick. He had to be livid to find out that his little niece had been left behind. He, most likely, had the entire crew scouring St. Croix Port this very instant looking for her.
It was no matter though. She knew the plan. She would barter passage out of Tortuga and meet up with them soon. But for now it was nice to be a passenger and not a working hand on a ship. Especially one as notorious as the Black Pearl.
She'd heard the tales of the Pearl for as long as she could remember. And through those had become acquainted with Captain Jack's tales as well. Those were her favorites. The wild and, more often than not, drunk Jack and his escipades were enough to keep her enthralled with many a sea-man willing to tell her about him.
She was sure when she had been hearing them straight from the horse's mouth, so to speak, that the Captain had thought her a simpering, giggling, young fool of a woman that couldn't hold onto a thought longer than a flea. She hopedthat he might think her shy,but most likely he thought that she was daft. After all, he'd only seen her giggle and nod through his entire tellings. She must have looked a fool.
She sighed as she pushed on her hammock to make sure it could withstand her weight. Satisfied, she took of her shoes with agroan of pain and pleasure. She glared at the torturous slippers before finally stopping delaying the inevitable and looking down at her feet. She winced as she counted four blisters on her toes alone and couldn't bare to look at her heels knowing there were at least two more large ones waiting for her. Why hadn't she broken in those insanely uncomfortable slippers before wearing them all night?
Grace gave another sigh of pure relief as she slid out of her gown and undid all the latching and straps of the constricting undergarments, including the dreaded corsette, which, she was sure, was designed by the devil himself and purely evil. She hadn't understood the need to wear one anyway, it wasn't as if her physique was round or at all pudgy in any way. She wasn't afforded the comfort of sitting around tea and biscuits to gossip about who was doing what, or who for that matter.
She was a working woman. A good one, for that matter. She knew every inch of the ship she sailed on from the galley to the crow's nest. She had learned every job she was allowed to, and some that she wasn't allowed. She might not be able to arrange a grand party or run a massive estate, but she could steer a large ship and make a meal for over two hunderd when the occasion called for it. She had callouses, for goodness sakes! And Uncle Frederick and the crew all loved her, in their own unconventional way.
She slid into the shirt that Will had loaned her with a sigh. She feel back into the hammock and smiled when it rocked with the gentle sway of the ship. She picked up the piece of jewelry that hung from her neck and examined it.
It was a rather large ruby surrounded by pure, polished gold on a chain. Ingravings of a language she'd never seen lay embedded on the outer edge. She wondered what they said, but knew they had to be of great importance for her to have risked her life and that of the crew's to get it. She had done a wonderful job, as well, if she did say so herself.
A yawn escaped her lips as she let the medalion fall onto her chest and stretched out in the swinging hammock. She still couldn't figure out why Will was so short with her. It shouldn't bug her, she knew, but something about his tone and manner had irked her.
She hadn't been rude to him, had she? She may just be a working woman, but she was taught manners and used them frequently. She had been exceptionally nice since boarding the ship, she thought. But maybe Mister Turner hadn't. Maybe he was offended by something she had said or done since meeting him. She hoped not.
Oh, but why should she care if he liked her or not? She wouldn't be near him to much longer. And after that she might not see him ever again. That thought struck her suddenly and she popped her eyes open. What if she didn't see him ever again? Not that she knew him, or even knew if she liked him, but he was rather nice to her. And she had seen the way he had stared at her.
Truthfully, she didn't mind all that much. It was nice to be noticed as a woman sometimes. And he hadn't tried to force himself upon her so she knew he had some manners. And he was rather handsome.
Grace let out a groan at that thought. She hadn't been attracted to someone in so long she had forgotten what it felt like. And she would pick the one person would obviously didn't care if she was thrown overboard or not.
She blew out a deep breath and rolled her eyes at herself. She would never be able to get to sleep if she didn't stop thinking about him now. So with much more than a little effort she cleared her mind of all things Will and allowed the ocean lapping against the hull of the boat to become her lullibye. With a yawn and small stretch she fell fast asleep.