Chapter six : Wanted to be found

Jack silently stole into the large manor, gesturing for his two senior crew to follow. Anya was out with Isaiah, as always, and Charlotte was napping peacefully in her sitting room.

The pirates made their way into said sitting room, quiet enough so as not to wake the elderly aunt. Jack motioned for Francis and Osco to stand by the door, and he went to stand by Charlotte.

She had her head lolling against her shoulder, a book fallen upon her somewhat large lap. Jack never liked her. The eldest and more overbearing of the Witches...whoops, Sisters, as he called them. He never really had a qual with Rosemary, but then he had never met the youngest sibling, preferring to stay out of his late wife's family. Not his anymore...he delighted in that fact.

"Wondering when you would show up," Jack started, he had been musing. Charlotte had spoken, but her eyes remained closed.

"So then I was not unexpected. I hope you prepared a room then, I don't want to intrude."

"You can't have her, Derack."

"It's Jack now."

"You can't have her Derack," Charlotte repeated, opening her eyes and sitting up, a large scowl of distrust and all around dislike splayed on her features.

"Why do I want her, I wonder?" Jack put a finger to his chin, theatrically thinking.

"Do you love her?" Charlotte asked bluntly.

"No."

"Then why do you want her?"

"A reason, my dear Charlotte, you wouldn't understand."

"Try me,"

"No. When is she due back?"

Charlotte looked him up and down. His apperance had grown more haggard, she reckoned. His long brown hair that was usually in a neat pony-tail was loose around his shoulders, though seemed to have had a comb run through it in the last year. His face showed signs of stubble, and his clothes were a bit patched. His eyes were what caught the woman, though; hard and icy.

"Tell me, and I will tell you."

"Very well Charlotte. We do them my way."

888

"How could I tell anyone if I didn't know!" Anya begged, for the millionth time, looking around at the sea of faces. How could things have gone so bad, so fast? She had simply been out for cloth, and next thing she knew, she was back on the pirate ship, heading to England. The moment she was in the captain's cabin–they still weren't out to sea yet–she was placed in a hard straight backed chair, and was now being interrogated but the four people standing around her.

"Stop the charade," Francis said, more kindly then the other three. His eyes were pleading, for her sake, as well as his.

"All I know is that my name is Anya Jacqueline. That's it! I don't remember anything past Jamaica."

"But how did you get to Jamaica?" Jack demanded, folding his arms across his chest.

"I don't know!"

"You accent is Sussex," Hutt snarled.

"I never knew. I don't know! Why would I lie to you now, when you have be cornered?" Anya was on the verge of tears. The only thing that kept her going was the escape plan she was slowly working on. But she would need to be believed before it even could be conceivable,

"Because you gain to lose quite a bit," Jack said thoughtfully. "That's enough." He waved a hand and the others left, leaving the captain and the captive together.

"So, princess," Jack drawled.

"Don't call me that," Anya snapped, feeling the bongs around her wrists.

"I'll take those off," Jack suggested, pulling out a dirk from his boot. "If you promise not to jump overboard."

Yes. This was exactly what she wanted. "I don't know how to swim," Anya shrugged.

"You don't know a lot of things," Jack bent down and cut loose the ties. She pulled her arms back around to her front, and massaged the raw flesh, glaring up at the captain.

"It's not my fault."

888

That night, she was allowed to eat on deck. They were sailing around the Jamaica coast, picking up some things in Morant, before heading out on the long sea voyage. Lush scenery sailed by and was soon lost in the twilight. All one could hear was the sound of the flapping sails, the sea, and occasionally a call of one of the many jeweled birds on the coast.

"Here," Jack said, walking into his cabin and shoving a few dresses into Anya's arms. She was sitting at his desk, distractedly pouring over some maps. She had them upside down.

"What are these?" Anya asked, standing up and inspecting the material.

"If you are a princess, you must at least look a bit presentable. Remember, the Hanover son is part of my crew; be nice, he might slip a word to his father."

Anya chose not to reply, but just looked at the two dresses. One was an almost swarthy red with black stripes, the other a pale blue.

"Am I to change, just to stay in the cabin?"

"No. You are eating on deck."

"Then leave so I might have some privacy." Jack obliged, and Anya silently danced around, pleased that her plan was working. But after five minutes of commending herself, she decided to put on the pale blue dress.

It was quite plain, but nice none-the-less. With a dipping bodice, and a satin sash, it looked quite well on Anya, except that the bust area was a bit too small, leaving the first three buttons in the front undone; fear for popping them. Instead of wearing the sash around her middle, Anya took it off the dress, and tied up her hair with it, having no pins. But she thought it was the best. She could do with less things...it would make it easier in the end.

"Ready, Princess?" Jack walked into the room after Anya had just smoothed back her hair. "You look fit enough to eat." His eyes lingered on her breasts, and then he grabbed her by the elbow, leading her out to the deck.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Francis hissed to Jack as they walked by.

"Relax," Jack shrugged. "She can't swim,"

888

Jack soon regreted those words. As soon as he had heard the splash, and not seen Anya at his side, he knew exactly what she had done. Smart lass, he thought, while jumping up and throwing off his coat and boots. Tricked him, but he would not let it happen again.

888

Anya ran through the brush, back down the coast line to a small fishing village that had went by a half hour ago. She had taken off the dress, now only in her white under shift; making it easier to run. She thought she heard footsteps, but soon realized they were her own.

After fifteen minutes, Anya slowed to a stop, gasping for air. Deciding that no one was around, she peeled off the night shift, and started to wring it out, happily applauding herself for such a smooth action. Why, she had just outsmarted a pirate! And the odds were against her! Oh the sweetness of it made Anya giggle. She stopped, when she heard a twig snap.

"First the whiteness of your shift, and now the white beacon of your body. If I didn't know better, Princess, I'd say you wanted to be found,"