CHAPTER FIVE
Mistaken Identities and Angry Women

The small boat left the white sand of the hidden beach, rowed by Jack's careful strokes, moving towards the dark shape in the distant sea. Jack continued rowing, and gradually more noises joined the sound of his oars cutting through the murky waves. Men talking, orders being given and taken up, hands on ropes and the creaking of wood beneath foot. The sounds of a ship and its crew at work.

"This is... the Pearl?"

"The Black Pearl. My ship."

As the shape grew ever clearer, Jeanette's eyes grew ever wider, until finally she could see the thing for what it was. So this... this was the legendary Black Pearl.

It was unlike any vessel she had seen before. It held the size and power of a galleon, every inch a strange doppelganger to a Naval flagship. Yet this power was coupled with the smooth, graceful lines of a schooner, wood coloured black, meticulously carved scenes on wooden panels, depicting mythical sea creatures leaping from and diving beneath a wooden sea. It was the perfect example of carpenter's craft.

And leading the vessel in all its travels was perhaps the most strange and marvellous piece of woodwork of it all. The figurehead - a beautiful woman, black like the rest of the ship, wings like an angel, stretching so far out it almost seemed she would fall off in her grasp for freedom. A bird was flying from her open fingers, each feather carved to detail, soaring up, up, and yet not quite away, having its own freedom and yet remaining firmly attached to its home.

Jeanette wondered as to what kind of bird it was - a swallow, maybe… and then she scolded herself for her stupidity on the matter. She could have sworn the sparrow was laughing at her too, with its wooden eyes.

Never had she met such as narcissist as Jack Sparrow.

The sails drifted to and fro like gossamer silk, a perfect black to match the rest of the ship and the night sky above, and with every breath of wind they seemed to sigh, as though the ship was truly alive, and longing to set sail again.

Ship and sails and figurehead – together it all gave off a ghostly aura, and a majestic feeling that it held dominion over the waters here, and anywhere else it would choose to go. It was so much alive that Jeanette could no longer refer to the Black Pearl as 'it'. Truly, She was an entity unto herself.

"She's..."

"I know."

"You didn't exaggerate."

She could feel his grin in the shadows before he replied. "I never exaggerate."

--

"This, gentlemen, is Miss Jeanette."

The crew had gathered before their captain, and whilst they listened to what he was saying, all were watching this newcomer intently. This Miss Jeanette, this small brown-haired woman clutching some kind of basket to her chest as though it was a lifeline. A blue-eyed, blue-dressed, most likely blue-blooded lady. They didn't raise their voices, but it was clear from the scattered mutterings and the narrowed eyes that she was most certainly not what they had been expecting out of this trip to Nevis.

A man was elbowed to the front of the crew. As quartermaster he spoke for the crew, and he cleared his throat with a gruff cough before voicing their exact thoughts. "I thought you were getting a scholar, Jack. Not a... woman," there was a murmur of agreement. "Bad luck, and with us this close to a Naval base too."

A disgruntled 'humph' came from Miss Jeanette at this, but before she could release what would likely be a torrent of curses against old superstitions, the people who carried them, and how they had no basis in modern society, Jack cut in.

"This would be our scholar, Gibbs. And she's got a temper like the best of them, so I wouldn't provoke her, if I were you."

The crew took on a look of scepticism at Jack's explanation, and once again, their misgivings were voiced through Gibbs' mouth. "She's the one who's going to help us with the map?"

"That's right," both Jack and Miss Jeanette spoke simultaneously.

"But she's a girl."

Miss Jeanette stepped forward, eyes blazing, basket swung fiercely to her side. Gibbs wisely took a step back. "You... that's completely -"

"Completely right, that's what it is," again, Jack stopped Miss Jeanette from continuing an outburst, "a girl, a governess, a scholar, and the one who's going t'help us with the map. Not a problem, is it?" his eyebrows were raised in question, his tone offhand, but his words held the order of the captain, and the captain's word was final.

Gibbs looked as though he had more to say on the matter, but thought better of it, and nodded his head, mumbling some agreement under his breath.

"Right then," Jack nodded, and then when he spoke again, his tone was deeper, more obviously commanding. "Get ready to make way."

The crew began to break up, taking last glances at Miss Jeanette before setting to their work. Far from shrinking at their scrutiny, she returned their looks with a scathing frown that made them all feel quite uncomfortable.

As Gibbs had said, it was bad luck to have a woman aboard, and they were already tempting fate by coming here, to Nevis, an island under the control of the British crown. Coming to Charleston itself, if you don't mind, the largest city on the island, with three Navy ships floating in the harbour, a huge Fort and a garrison to match it. A woman would have been bad enough, but this Miss Jeanette, this scholar... she was an angry woman, make no mistake about that. They had all had their fair shares of angry women - mothers, sisters, lovers, pleasurable company - and it was fair to say that they did not eagerly anticipate another, regardless of what uses she might come to in regards to the map.

Now the captain was talking to the woman, and gesturing with both arms towards the entrance to his cabin. "Miss Jeanette, if you'd do me the honours."

Still giving off an air of fury, Miss Jeanette turned and followed his direction, walking through the door. The captain trailed after her, grinning all the way. Conversation erupted on deck as soon as the door shut.

Who was she? Why would the captain let her onboard? How could the scholar be a woman? Why was a governess not the least perturbed by being on a pirate ship?

Damned it they understood any of it.

But the captain had brought her here, and the captain was the one who would bring them this treasure. They were pirates after all, and they were prepared to face storms, tempests, the Navy and angry women all in one nightmarish voyage if it meant reaching gold at the end.

Soon almost the entire assembly had departed to different areas of the Black Pearl, readying the ship for the upcoming journey. But a few remained, including Gibbs, who squinted at the closed door with a pensive look.

"Swear I've seen that lass before somewhere."

"Can't have," Ladbroc answered his musings matter-of-factly.

But the older man wasn't convinced. "There's something –"

"She's just a governess," Ladbroc stopped him before he could continue his speculations, "nothing more to it." He clapped him on the shoulder to break him out of his trance, which seemed to work, and they parted ways, Gibbs walking off to help secure the rigging for the voyage. Yet, as he walked, there was still that nagging doubt in the back corner of his mind.

--

Jeanette entered the captain's cabin, still fuming at the derogatory attitude of Jack's crew. A large table and chairs sat in the middle of the room and she could just make out shapes along the walls that must have been wardrobes or cabinets of some kind. Moonlight streamed through the huge window that dominated one side of the cabin, illuminating the place in strange silver glow, but it did not reach all the corners, and so the place was bordered with shadow.

She had barely got in when Jack entered and closed the door behind him, clicking the latch shut carefully. It must be thick, she thought, for now any sounds outside had been muffled to the point of inaudibility, and all she could hear were the sea waves and the creaking of the furniture as the ship rolled from one side to the other.

That and Sparrow's voice, of course.

"Doesn't do to get so mad, Etty. Could cause yourself an injury," he commented as he turned around to face her.

"You proved you could call me Jeanette out there, would it trouble you so much to continue in here?"

"Yes," he stated dryly.

She shot him an irate glare, "Where are we sailing to?"

Now he was walking over to stand in front of her, "We're setting out for Antigua. Should be there in three days or so."

"Antigua, why on earth..." suddenly, she realised what he had just said. "Only three days?"

"You're not aboard some little Navy boat, love. The Pearl's the finest ship in the Caribbean. Might even make it in less, if the wind picks up."

Jeanette did not reply, instead circled so that she was facing the window, staring out to the ocean below, crossing her arms tightly.

This whole thing... it seemed like it should be some fantastic dream - or nightmare. Kidnapped in the dead of night, put aboard a ghost ship, surrounded by pirates, sailing away to Antigua in search of a treasure map. And yet it was familiar to her. Not being kidnapped, obviously, but the sight of the sea, the sounds of the crew, the smells of salt and -

But it would do her no good to fall to nostalgia. She was here under protest, for heavens sake, not as a willing participant in this ridiculous quest. And to make matters worse she was with Jack Sparrow, a mad captain, one of the most galling men she had ever met, disrespectful, manipulative... He had joined her now, she realised with a side-glance, looking too at something unknown beneath the waters. Not acknowledging her presence, just looking, as though waiting for something.

"Out on deck, the man..." Jeanette surprised herself by speaking, her voice breaking the hush that had fallen on the cabin. "The quartermaster... was that Joshamee Gibbs?"

"Gibbs?" Jack still didn't look at her, repeating the name as though to the sea. "I forgot you knew him."

"Did he..." her question tailed off, and Jack completed it for her.

"Recognise you? Might have had an inclining, but he never knew you as..." he turned for a moment and motioned at her, his eyes fixing on her dress, her hair that had been neatly braided into a plait on the journey in the boat. "Miss Jeanette is just a scholarly young woman, rare as such a thing might be."

"Yes," she gave a quiet affirmation, "and you were the only one who ever managed to get Jeanette out of me."

"You make it sound like I threatened you. As if I'd ever dream of -" At that she faced him, raising one eyebrow disdainfully. "Well, I didn't threaten you that time."

"You got me drunk, if I recall rightly," a small, sad smile played on her features.

"What was it, rum?"

"Lord no, it was justcheap gin, remember, we..." her thoughts drifted into the past, and the sentence was left unfinished.

Jack paused for a moment, and then, "Etty, why did you -"

"There are more pressing matters we should be discussing," she brought his question to a halt.

"Such as?" he didn't enquire as to her changing the subject.

"Amphitrite's Cave. That is, after all, why I'm here."

"Ah, yes. Of course." he walked away from the window to the table, leaning back against it in a cavalier manner. "Go on then."

She spun to stand facing him, "What do you want to know?"

"Everything you know about this treasure." Then, he decided to add an afterthought, "And the lass that put it there."

Jeanette sank down onto the window seat, winding a loose strand of hair around a finger as though nervous. "You're not going to believe me. Hardly anyone..." she sighed and tucked the strand behind her ear, before meeting his gaze. "Most people think it's just a myth, an old fairy tale."

"Try me."

"Well," she paused, "Amphitrite's not a lass, exactly."

He looked at her quizzically, "Can't be a bloke with a name like that."

"N-no." Jeanette began to worry her lower lip.

"Then what is she? A strumpet, an angel, a mermaid, a -"

"She's a goddess."