Chapter three: Walk right in
Jack deposited the small figure onto his own bed, and made himself comfortable against one of the massive posts. Her calm face, more pretty then he would have known, and big eyes made him think of something, but he couldn't place it. A large bruise was forming on the side of her cheek where it had made connection with the stone floor.
Soon, after a few moments, her eyelids started fluttering, and she started at seeing Jack surveying her. He laughed when in a fit of desperation, she fell back off the bed, and scuttled to the corner, her long hair hanging over her face...not as pretty once more.
"Your name, girl." He said, standing up and walking towards her. She visibly shrank, and he stopped, confused.
"Hillinburg?" Jack sat upon his haunches, and looked this slight figure up and down.
"Dead. Your name, girl."
"I am Clara Sandiniti!" She rose, haughty, straightening out her back, and her head high. Still, Jack was confused. He stood also, but when he made to sweep the hair out of her face, she flinched, and took a step back.
"And that meaning?" She seemed crestfallen that he did not recognize her surname. Clara gave a small stretch, like someone slowly climbing back into their skeleton, and reached up, pulling her brown hair into a knot at the nape of her neck. The hair style was harsh, but she didn't care about her looks.
"My father was Antony Sandiniti. Perhaps you have heard of him?" Jack had to wrack his brains for a moment...Antony...? Ah...yes, Antony.
"The duke? I never knew he had children. If what you cry is true, then you are a very wealthy woman...wealthy indeed." Instantly, Clara did not like the situation. She looked around, and her heart sank when she saw that she was in a cabin, on a ship. A very large cabin by the looks of it. There was only one door, and if she made for an escape, this man would catch her.
"And you are?" She asked, trying not to sound desperate. If she stalled him long enough, then maybe...just maybe she had a chance.
"What? Oh yes. Captain Jack Sparrow, at your service." He gave a mocking bow, and when he rose, a ghost of a smile was on his lips. Clara instantly thought of a fox, lithe and cunning, though prone to stupidity at times. She had heard of this man before...then recognition hit hard.
"You were the one at the hall?" Jack raised an eyebrow, but remained silent.
"You were the one who knew how to manipulate us all, weren't you? Very clever. If you were a nobody, I would claim you for my crew. As it were, I think there are other uses..much better." His voice was soft and silky, very convincing. He walked over to the door and opened it, calling out.
"Hey! Anyone out there? Yeah, you'll do, Parkinson. Come here." The man called Parkinson walked into the room, and Clara had the impression of dark hair, skin, and eyes.
"Yes?" He asked in a languid voice.
"Please escort our...guest to an open cabin. Lock it too." Clara made to run, but Parkinson caught her and hauled her out of the room, kicking and screaming.
Soon after, the ship's first mate, Michael Gibbs, came striding into the room, glancing back behind him at the trouble the youngest crew member was experiancing.
"Cap'n...?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. Jack gave him a once over, and sat down at his desk chair, kicking his feet up, and letting his head loll back.
"...what?" He asked when Gibbs still stood there.
"Who is that?"
"Clara." Once again, Gibbs did not make to leave. "If you're gunna stay there all day, then bring me something to drink. Rum. Well?"
"Please tell me that you aren't goin' to repeat our latest venture." Gibbs said wearily, making for the open door.
"You don't have to stay on the ship you know," Jack said rudely. "As it were, its not like Im keeping her like one would a stray pup."
"Very well. Oh, and I jest cant pick up and leave, Cap'n. I did sign the articles, and took the oath. If I left, you would be liable to shoot me."
"Exactly so."
"Im jest saying," Gibbs ducked out of the cabin as a piece of crumpled parchment came flying his way.