Disclaimer: I don't own half of the characters in this story.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 5: An Unsettling Compromise

Camille was lying on her bed, trying to control the nausea and the headache that she felt overwhelming her at the same time. The pain had eased a little, but she still felt miserable and even more so now that she had been violated by the only man who'd ever asked her a question about herself.

Sitting up, she looked out her small window. She played with the edge of her dress, straining to see any dolphins out the window. But all she could see was a wave crashing against the ship.

She managed to go that day avoiding as much of the crew as possible, especially Jack. Camille picked up her guitar to play, plucked a few strings, and put it down again. She didn't feel like doing anything.

When she heard a knock on the door she jumped up, ready to defend herself. She put her hand to her chest when Ana Maria entered the room.

"How's the headache?" she asked.

"Miserable. I feel terrible," Camille replied. "I don't know what caused me to drink so much last night, I can't even remember what happened."

"Girl, I've got somethin' to tell ye that I think might put things in a bit of a better perspective fer ya."

Camille's eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me that you are here to defend your so called 'Captain'."

Ana Maria crossed her arms. "He didn't do nothin' to ya, girl. You were so drunk last night that he carried you to your room, and I came in this mornin' to change you since you were a mess. You were out cold and I couldn't get ya to move, so I gave up when yer dress was halfway on and tucked ya in. I meant to tell ya when you woke up but you was too busy yellin' at Jack."

"What? Ana Maria, you have got to be joking. Jack's a-a…"

"A bloody pirate?"

"Yes, exactly!"

Ana Maria sighed. "Just because we're swashbucklers doesn't mean that we ain't people, too."

Camille just looked at her, perplexed. It hadn't been Jack?

"I think you owe the captain an apology, even if it does mean lettin' go of yer pride for a while."

Camille stood up, swooning from her massive hangover. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that just because ye got more money than most of us, it don't mean that you can treat people badly," Ana Maria said as she turned around and left.

Camille was furious! Those pirates, who had kidnapped her and taken her away from HER home and HER father were telling her how to treat people? Who did they think they were?

Then she laid back down on the bed, thinking despite the constant pounding in her head. Perhaps Ana Maria had been right. The crew of this pirate ship was the only real interaction she had. For a very long time, the only people she had talked to were her maids, Peter, Sheila, and the hundreds of suitors. But the suitors didn't count. She remembered that night out on the deck. He looked at her in the middle of his story and asked her something, like he genuinely cared for her.

Holding her head, she made her way out of the room and towards the captain's quarters. She knocked lightly three times. "Captain Sparrow, I wish to speak with you," she requested.

No reply. She scanned the deck quickly, and spotted a rather large hat belonging to a man at the helm. She picked up her dress and made her way over to him. "Captain Sparrow," she said addressing him. "Captain Sparrow, I would like to apologize for my rude behavior this morning."

He ignored her, staring off into the distance and glancing at his little compass once in a while.

"Captain Sparrow? Jack, did you hear me?"

"It's Captain Jack Sparrow to you, missy. Save yourself the breath, you'll be off this 'god forsaken hellhole' soon enough."

"Captain, you don't understand. I said I was sorry," she said, her temper rising again.

He turned and looked at her, just as impatient. "Sometimes words don't do it," he said through his teeth.

"Then what will?" she demanded.

"I wouldn't worry about that if I were you, it doesn't involve any money your father can give me to make up for your arrogance," he said smoothly.

She staggered back, feeling like he'd just hit her in the face. "Do you think that's what I am? Some rich, snobbish girl who has her father write a check every time she does something?" She was now about to cry, because her head ached and she still felt miserable on top of all this. "Captain, I have never been away from my father or my home, not once. And now, well, here I am; alone, on a ship with the people I've been told my entire life to avoid, hungover…do you think that my father can help me out of this?" she practically screamed.

Jack leaned against the wheel, slightly amused at this output of emotions. "He already did if he offered the ransom, missy."

She began crying, putting her hands to her face. There was no way she would ever get off this ship and away from these people. They were all heartless. And more than anything now, she wanted off this ship and away from the fearless Captain Jack Sparrow and his crew of miscreants.

Jack sighed. "Listen, we are weighing anchor as soon as possible at the next port. I will make sure to send word to your father so that he knows where you are."

She tried to calm down a little, listening to the captain. "Captain Sparrow, Ana Maria told me what happened," she admitted.

Jack turned back to the helm. "I suppose she did. But you still don't want anything to do with us."

"Jack, my entire life I've been told that pirates are the most dangerous people I could ever encounter and not to encounter them. Do you think that you could for one second put yourself in my shoes and-"

"Why don't you put yourself in mine?" Jack yelled suddenly, scaring Camille. He threw his hands up in the air, turning on his heel. "Forget it! I can't compete with haughtiness such as yours. Earl, take the helm!"

Camille huffed. If he wasn't going to accept her apology, than what was the point? She stared out at the sea for a while and tried to calm down, but some dark clouds began forming. She went back down to her room and stared at the guitar in the corner. Looking out of her little window, she thought she could see a tiny bit of trees. Land! She would soon be free! Sighing with relief, she picked up the guitar in the corner of the room and rushed up the stairs. Even though it was early afternoon, it was very dark out.

Feeling the wind chill her bones, she made her way to Jack's quarters. She was planning on simply knocking and dropping it off, but as she raised her fist to knock on the door the ship suddenly lurched forward. Crying out in surprise, she fell on the door causing it to open under her weight. Toppling inside, she quickly sat up preparing to apologize. But other than a candle burning on a desk, the cabin was empty.

She saw a flash of lightning move across the sky and was able to steady herself when the ship rocked again. Setting the guitar down, she was able to catch the candle as it tipped off the desk. There was already wax everywhere, and she tried not to let it drip on the papers Jack had scattered everywhere.

Setting the candle back down and steadying it, her eye caught a seal on one of the envelopes. It had already been opened, but the seal was a little British emblem that she recognized very well. It belonged to Governor Swann of Port Royale.

Looking up to make sure no one was in sight, she shut the door and went back over to the desk, scanning the letter.

To Captain Jack Sparrow,

I'm afraid that I have received some very troubling news of recent events over in Port Celebros. It seems that Mr. Quartermaine, the wealthiest estate owner of the town, is very distraught over the kidnapping of his only daughter. I also happen to know that Miss Quartermaine is the heiress of a very grand fortune which has been put up as ransom for her promised safe return from her kidnappers. Of course neither Elizabeth nor the Governor know of this, but I thought that I would send you a letter in private. I assumed you would have something to do with this my friend, or at least know who is behind this. I am writing this mainly to warn you that once again, the King's Royale Navy is after you and the Black Pearl, since you are the last known pirate ship in the Caribbean. If you have any information about the young girl, I suggest you use that cunning that I know you so well for possessing.

Sincerely,

William Turner

William Turner? Who was he and why was he using the Governor's seal? He obviously lived in the Governor's household or had some close connection with the Governor. Why was he writing to Jack? Was he some sort of spy? And the fortune had been turned into a ransom! So Jack's plan had worked after all.

She jumped as she heard the doorknob turn, ducking under the desk as she heard heavy footsteps scrape across the cabin. The storm was calming down a bit, but the place was still rocking side to side and Camille had to hold herself steady and pray that she would not bump into anything. The captain was already cross with her as it was.

As she tried not to breathe, she looked in the only direction she could which faced a bookshelf. There were rolled up things, and a few treasure maps sprawled across the floor below the books. But something else intrigued her. She could see several poetry books on the shelves. She wondered if they had ever been touched.

Her thinking process stopped as she could hear Jack picking up the letter. He mumbled while reading it, and paced back and forth several times. "Oh, dear William," he said to himself. "How very well you know me." She tried to bury herself a little deeper as he began making his way towards the bookshelf, and then turned around at the sound of Ana Maria's voice.

"Captain!"

He exited the cabin, and she sighed with relief. As she straightened up, she let out a little shriek as one of the books toppled off the shelf. Kneeling next to it, she could see the open pages. She almost smiled. "William Wordsworth," she said slowly, not believing it at first.

"She was a phantom of delight," Jack's voice said from the other side of the cabin. He was sitting at a table, with his feet propped up. His coat and hat were hung up. "One of my personal favorites."

She looked up, petrified. "Captain Sparrow, I'm sorry. I meant no intrusion, I was going to return the guitar and I-"

"Shush love, I know. I saw the entire ordeal."

She straightened up, bringing the book with her. "You did?"

"I would make a very poor captain if I didn't know everything that was happening on my own ship. And speaking of so, you make a very poor snoop. You set the letter down wrong and everything."

"I was not snooping," she said, raising her nose slightly.

"Now if we are going to have this talk my dear, I suggest that we keep our noses and egos at the same level. Savvy?"

She nodded humbly. "Yes, Captain."

He motioned for her to come closer. "Bring that book over here, I haven't read it in quite some time. You can come too if you like."

She approached him and he avidly began leafing through it. She cleared her throat. "So…so you're not angry with me?"

"Well I was, I won't lie to you. But then I did get to thinking about what you said, and I suppose you could never be expected to understand the ways of a swashbuckler such as myself."

"I suppose not. But to be fair Captain Sparrow, I don't think that you know as much about proper ladies."

"That may be quite true, love."

"For one, they don't like to be called 'love' all the time by a person they do not know."

He took his feet off the table, placing the book on its spine, and narrowed his eyes at her. "Are we going to have this attitude again, Miss Camille?"

"I apologize, Captain."

"You've developed quite a nasty habit of talking down to men, did you know that?"

"With all due respect, Captain, if you had to deal with all of the suitors I have in the past two and a half years you'd have lost a bit of respect for them yourself," she spat, having a bit of her accent more prevalent.

"Honestly, it can't be that bad having men wrapped around your little finger."

"None of them would even know my name if it weren't for the fortune I am entitled to inherit. I believe that you are no different, Captain Sparrow."

"Ah, now that's where you are wrong my dear," he said, standing up. "I am very different from those two and a half years worth of suitors."

"You are not. You, like the rest of them, only want me for the money."

"Perhaps," he said patiently, drumming his fingers on the table. "But unlike the rest, I am certainly no gentleman," he said, moving his face closer to hers.

"If you try to kiss me you will pull away with one less body member," she threatened.

Jack's eyes widened. "How unladylike!" he exclaimed.

"Since you are no gentleman, I see no reason for me to be a lady," Camille said cunningly. She gasped as a sudden lurch sent her flying forward into Jack. He steadied her.

"Not too good even when we're sober, eh?"

She pushed him away and scowled at him. "Perhaps you didn't take advantage of me this time, but that means nothing."

"Love…"

"My name is Camille."

"And it is a lovely name."

She was about to tell him that she would not miss him, when he reached around and grabbed her backside firmly. She yelped, slapping him as hard as she could.

He laughed, rubbing his cheek. "It was well worth it, darling."

"You bastard!" she screamed, picking up her dress and stomping out of his cabin into the raging storm.