Disclaimer: I don't own half the characters in this story, but I do own the plot. And I know that Peter Pan was written way later than this, but it was a fun story to work with.
SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT
Chapter 10: Neverland
She woke up with the sunlight peeking in. Annie had already pulled the blinds open and laid out her clothes. The candles had burned their way to the desk in little puddles of hardened wax. Keeping her eyelids shut tight, she tried to recreate last night's atmosphere in her memory. She could remember Captain Sparrow, smelling delightfully not like rum and sweat, and swinging her around as if he'd been born into society to dance with people like her.
She sat up. "People like me?" she asked absolutely no one. A person like her could NEVER even associate with a person like Jack or Ana Maria or Mr. Gibbs. What had…had she dreamt it? By the time Annie had helped her get dressed, she was convinced she had.
When she descended the stairs, it was a different story. Three gentlemen sat with teacups neatly on their laps, one of them being her father. He looked up at her and smiled. "Good morning Camille, my darling! Did you sleep well?"
She swallowed. "Yes father, I did. Mr. Turner; Mr. Bordeulaire." She made her way to the couch, and took a seat next to her father. Will and Jack sat on two chairs, and she sat across from Jack. He winked at her, sipping his tea daintily. She glanced at Will, but got no explanation from his face.
"It seems that last night you left your fan at the party," Dorian explained. "And since they happened to be passing through, were thoughtful enough to come and return it."
"Oh my, how foolish of me!" she exclaimed, knowing full well that she had remembered her fan and it was in her bedroom as they spoke.
"Yes, and Mr. Bordeaulaire was just telling me how the both of you attended Rochester last summer."
She cleared her throat, masking the laugh that was trying to escape. She couldn't believe how well he had everyone fooled. That bloody pirate. "Yes, Vincent and I studied together with his sister on occasion," she said, almost gritting her teeth hoping that it wouldn't interfere with any previous made up information. But to her relief, Jack gave her a slight nod.
"Indeed, Mr. Quartermaine. I daresay your daughter was responsible for most of my successful marks in school. She really is quite brilliant, sir."
Dorian nodded, glancing at his daughter. "I agree, Mr. Bordeaulaire."
Then why do I need a man to take care of me if I'm so bloody brilliant? She thought as she twisted the lace on her dress.
Will cleared his throat. "Yes, well with all due respect Mr. Quartermaine we really must be getting along," he said, standing up. He had been eyeing his friend carefully, and could tell that Jack was just about to say something "ungentlemanly".
Jack put his tea down. "Yes, of course. We really can't stay and chat longer, although," he added, eyeing Camille, "it has been lovely seeing you again, Miss Quartermaine. It is such a small world."
Before she knew what she was doing Camille had gotten to her feet to follow them. "Vincent," she called after him.
He turned around casually, like it was his name any other day. "Yes, Miss Quartermaine?"
"Please, feel free to come and visit anytime," she said clearly. "It really has been a pleasure seeing such an old friend," she said, putting her hand out.
"Miss Quartermaine, I assure you. The pleasure has been all mine," Jack said, almost seductively. He kissed her hand and winked again before following Will out the door.
"Just what do you think you're doing?" Will almost demanded when they were past the front gate. "If you're trying to charm your way into that inheritance, you are going about it all wrong."
"Am I now?"
"Yes. She is engaged to Gillette, a man of the King's Royale Navy. You could be knighted, and it would still be his word against yours for anything. Don't try it, Jack."
"Well to be perfectly honest, I wasn't plannin' on using words, mind you."
"You know what I mean."
Jack chuckled. "I know lad, I know. But she has gotten herself into a real pickle, that redhead."
"Yes, she has. She's marrying Gillette whether she likes it or not. And I doubt a woman like her would like it."
Jack kept quiet, knowing that Will would do everything in his power to stop Jack from communicating with the Quartmaines. She needed his help, though. He'd seen the desperation in her eyes. He'd done the girl a favor by kidnapping her, although she was altogether too damned stubborn to admit it. Plus, she'd given him Silver's key. Pirate or not, that counted for something.
They made it back to Port Royale by the middle of that afternoon, and by the time they were back inside the Governor's mansion he was already constructing a plan.
Camille continued to see Gillette, but she was beginning to grow worried about the marriage since her father was already letting her court him unsupervised. She dreaded the day she would have to marry him, but little by little her hatred for him wore down. Now it seemed that she held nothing for the soldier except an endless boredom.
They were riding a coach home from Sunday mass, and rather than listen to his pointless words she looked out at the bright sun, mocking her as it cast beautiful light over the bay that morning.
"Camille my dear, are you listening to me?" broke her from her daze.
She snapped back to reality. "Yes, Gillette?"
"I said you really should put your hat back on. You're going to get sunspots on your face. It's really quite unattractive."
She obeyed, pinning her hat on so it would shade her face from any sun that tried to get underneath. They had arrived at her mansion, and she sighed as she was helped down. She put out her hand and almost pulled back from shock when Gillette kissed the inside of her wrist.
"I'll see you tonight, my dear," Gillette said, reentering the coach and heading off.
When she got back inside, she washed her hands, trying to get rid of at least the memory of sitting next of him in the stuffy church. That was another thing she hated. Catholicism. She had been raised Protestant in Ireland, and continually asked her father why they should be forced to attend a Catholic mass every Sunday morning. He disliked it as much as she did.
Changing into a more comfortable dress, (green of course), she watched Annie's children that day. Annie's children always helped her to forget her own worries. She was in the middle of reading them a story, when the doorbell rang.
"Hold onto that page, Peter," she said as she got up. "Benjamin?" she called. He must have been gone as well. She opened the door, and jumped back in surprise. "Jack!" she cried, forgetting to call him "Vincent".
"Yes, hello, Miss Quartermaine," he said slyly.
"I was just reading the children a story before Annie gets home from the market, won't you please come in?" she asked warmly.
Jack looked around. "Is your father here?"
"Not today. He's been making wedding arrangements up in Port Royale as of late," she tried to say casually, but he could see the trapped look in her eyes.
"I see."
"Yes," she said, quickly changing the subject. "Children! Children, won't you come! I'd like for you to meet someone!" she said, leading Jack into the play room.
Both of them stood up, and little Sheila hid behind her brother. Jack smiled at the two of them. "Hello," he said nicely, grinning down at them.
"Children, this is a very good friend of mine. His name is Vincent," she introduced. "Vincent, this is Peter and Sheila. They are Annie's children."
He looked down at them, and put his hand out as Peter shyly took it. "Well, what in the world has your mother been feeding you, lad?" Jack said strongly, causing Peter to jump. "For such a stonelike grip! You're a good, strong man, I can see that much just by lookin' at ye!" he said, reverting back to his pirate accent. Camille bit her lip and looked at him in warning, but Peter was grinning.
"Miss Camille told me that you went to school with her. She said you was real handsome too, she did," Peter blurted out, not aware of what he said.
Camille's face turned almost as red as her hair, but Jack just chuckled. "Did she now?" Then he tried to make eye contact with Sheila. "And who's this little lass?"
Sheila ran to Camille and tried to hide in her skirts as Camille picked her up and held her. Peter looked at them, then back at Jack. "She does that to everybody. It's called being antisocial," he said informatively.
"Peter, do not give false labels to your sister like that," Camille scolded. "She's just shy. After all, you are only three years old, aren't you, lamb?" she asked gently. The little girl nodded.
"Well I'm not going to bite you, love," Jack said, coming closer. But the girl only buried her head in Camille's shoulder.
Camille laughed. "Vincent, could you hand me that book just there? I was just reading to the children about Peter Pan."
Jack picked up the book, looking over it. "You're reading this to young children? A bit advanced, don't you think?" he said, turning over the thick book in his hands. "There aren't even any pictures."
Camille took it and sat down. "Vincent, haven't you ever read the story of Peter Pan when you were a child?" she asked.
"Afraid I haven't, love," he replied.
"Well then, you must have a seat with the children. Fortunately I was just starting the story before you arrived."
"Peter Pan was amazing! He fought pirates, and he was friends with mermaids, and he taught Wendy to fly after she sewed his shadow back on him, and he never got older, and he had Tinkerbell…" Peter began, trying to be helpful and fill Jack in on the details. Sheila nodded, smiling slightly from Camille's lap.
"Oh, he fought pirates, did he?" Jack said, looking interested.
"Yes, he fought a very fiercesome pirate named Captain Hook," Camille interjected.
"An alligator eat his hand," Sheila's small, shrill voice piped up.
"An alligator ate his hand," Peter said, correcting his sister.
"Yes, that's right. An alligator did eat his right hand. So in place of his missing hand we would wear a hook. But the, well technically, it was a crocodile. But then Captain Hook was constantly pursued by the crocodile, so to know when it was coming he fed it a clock so that he could hear the ticking from the inside of the creature."
Vincent knit his eyebrows together. "A ticking crocodile? Now that's interesting. But I think I'd like to hear more about this Captain Hook character."
"You can't hear the end!" Sheila shouted, and then giggled, covering her mouth.
Jack looked puzzled, and Camille laughed. "She's right, you know. Vincent has to hear the story of Peter Pan from the very beginning, doesn't he children?" They both nodded. Camille shrugged as she opened the book. "I'm afraid I can't reveal the ending until the end, Vincent. I'm sorry."
He just smiled. "Well then, we'd better be quiet if we want to hear the story then, eh?" He sat, almost as contentedly as the children and listened as Camille read some, but mostly told them of Peter Pan and the Lost Boys of Never Never Land.
"Miss Camille, was Peter Pan a negro?" Peter asked.
"Why, of course he was! And so was Wendy, and most of the Lost Boys," Camille said. Both of the children smiled and looked at each other.
"But I was talking to Miss Vanderbilt the other day and she said that negroes weren't in fairy tales. She said that they weren't important enough to put in stories and books," he continued.
"Well the next time she says anything of the sort to you, you just ask her how many negroes she met when she was in Never Never Land," Camille replied smartly. Jack just grinned, before all of their heads turned at the sound of Annie's voice.
