Usual disclaimers – sob!
Many thanks for your kind reviews and comments. They are always appreciated and helpful – at least I know I'm doing it right so far :D
With thanks to Kat for looking through and to Hils for being a soundboard from time to time, even if she doesn't agree with what I do (which she doesn't later in the story!)
And finally...
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL MY REVIEWERS AND READERS!
…
Chapter Eleven"Celia… oi! Come on, wake up, yer lazy mare!"
Celia's eyes sprang open and she rubbed her eyes, frowning as Aggie came into focus. "What time is it?" she enquired, stretching in the chair and disturbing the cat.
"It's mornin'!" Aggie chuckled. Ol' man Jones didn't have th'heart ter wake ya, bloody soft lump."
"Morning?" Celia echoed. "Oh, my goodness. I must be going."
"Don't worry, Jack's still upstairs," the whore assured her. "Although I reckon he'll be down any time."
Celia shooed the cat from her lap and stood creakily, her muscles and bones protesting at the movement. "Thanks, Aggie. Take care of yourself, you hear?"
"Ah, give over! I'm a survivor, me - yer should know that by now. Don't yer let that bastard force himself on yer."
"That bastard has no intention of forcing himself on her," a voice drawled from the corridor outside the room.
"Yeah, yer wouldn't be th'first ter promise that, Sparrow," Aggie sniped, hugging her friend. "See yer soon," she smiled.
"Hopefully," the younger woman nodded with a tearful smile as she left her friend behind and joined the pirate captain.
…
Celia sat in the ship's boat, watching with a sense of foreboding as the dark hull of the Black Pearl, which was to be her home for the best part of a year, loomed ever larger in her vision. She glanced at the two crewmen, rowing her and their captain, taking in their worn, tattered clothing, battle scarred faces and tattoos lining their arms, and wondered if they were anything like the crew on board the Sea's Cutlass. She prayed not. Celia did not think she could survive if she were to be treated in the same way by this crew. But for some reason, she found herself trusting Jack Sparrow, even though every sense in her body told her not to.
"It's th'bosun's chair again, I'm afraid," Jack quipped, breaking her reverie.
"I shall get used to it, I suppose," Celia sighed, watching as the flimsy plank was lowered in readiness for her arrival.
"Aye, you will," he agreed. "Unless you intend stayin' on board fer th'whole year."
Celia caught the glance that the two crewmen gave each other – clearly they had not been expecting her to stay for long, and that gave Celia a glimer of hope. 'Maybe he'll get tired of me and let me go… or just force himself on me,' she thought ruefully to herself, thinking that her virtue was starting to become something of a millstone around her neck.
"Hello!" Jack called, waving a hand in front of her face. "D'you always go off in a trance?"
"No," she blushed. "I'm sorry." Celia took his offered hand and stepped gingerly across the boat and onto the bosun's chair, clinging tightly to the ropes as she felt herself being hauled into the air. "P-please don't drop me," she begged to the men on deck.
"We won't," came Joshamee Gibbs' friendly voice. "As safe as houses, is what you are."
"I-I don't feel it…"
"See – there already," Jack teased as she was swung over the rail and onto the deck. "I reckon they've been practisin' especially fer you."
"Of course we have, pet," Joshamee smiled, patting her arm. "Good to have you on board.. even though you're a woman."
"Y-you don't like women on board?" Celia asked nervously, hoping that the one person she could count on as a friend and ally would not turn against her.
"I reckon they're bad luck, but what do I know?" the quartermaster grinned.
"Do you want that answered?" Jack enquired acerbically. "Come on, luv, let's get you settled, eh?"
"All right," she whispered, allowing the pirate captain to lead her to his cabin. "I still want written assurance that you will release me once my debt is paid," Celia stated firmly, in spite of the fear that was coursing through her body.
"Here it is," Jack replied, walking to the table and holding up a piece of paper which he handed to the young woman. "You can read, can't you…?"
Celia shot him a withering look then turned her attention to the paper, surprised to read in beautiful writing;
I, Captain Jack Sparrow, do solemly declare that I will release Miss Celia Hammond from her duties on board my ship, the Black Pearl, once the debt of one hundred guineas is paid for in full, either by her working the debt off at five pennies per week, or halving the debt by sharing my bunk and working the remainder of the monies owed.
Celia was not surprised, however, to see that he had signed it with an extravagant flourish. "Thank you," she acknowledged with a nod as she folded the paper up and tucked it into a pocket of her dress. "I am grateful to you."
"I told you, Celia, I'm a man of my word. Now go an' get yourself out of that pretty dress an' you can start cleanin' th'cabin, savvy?"
"Already?" she gasped.
"No time like th'present," he shrugged with a grin. "I don't allow slackers on my ship."
"J-just one more thing, Ca… Jack," she gulped. "What if the men do try something?"
"They know th'punishment fer it on board my ship. Don't worry, luv, you're safer here than in Tortuga."
"I was safer back home than anywhere," she murmured ruefully as she crossed to the side cabin in order to change into an older dress to work in.
"Have things always happened ter you?" Jack enquired as she changed and he sat in his chair, uncorking a bottle of ale.
"No," she replied heavily. "At least not until I arrived out here. And now I almost dread waking up in case something else happens."
"It will," Jack chuckled quietly to himself. "You're on th'Pearl…"
…
"Captain!" Joshamee Gibbs called, silencing the decks of the pirate ship and allowing Jack to command the attention of his men from where he stood on the quarterdeck with Celia at his side.
"As you all know," Jack slurred, weaving violently and flailing his hands, making the young woman look at him in alarm. "We were involved in rescuing young Miss Hammond from a fate worse than death, thanks ter Davy bloody Stockton. Now Miss Hammond has graciously agreed ter reimburse what I paid out fer her by workin' on board by cleanin, swabbin' an' mendin' – sorry Toby, but she can't cook!" he grinned at the ship's cook, Tobias Pellew, before becoming serious. "I want you all to treat her with curtesy an' respect, an' if any of you dare to touch her, you know what I will do ter you, savvy?"
"Aye!" the crew replied to a man.
"There you go, luv. They know what's what now, eh?"
"Indeed," Celia replied, arching an eyebrow. "I agreed to reimburse you…"
"Well, you did," Jack frowned, taking her arm and walking to the steps with a rolling gait.
"Under duress, maybe," she retorted, wondering why he was suddenly acting strangely.
"There was always th'alternative," he shrugged as he lead the way down the steps to the main deck.
"Which you will remind me of every time I raise an objection, won't you, Captain Sparrow?"
"You'll just have ter not object then, won't you, Miss Hammond?" Jack chuckled. "Mister Gibbs, show Celia where th'swabs an' pails are kept, an' how ter draw water up from th'side."
"Aye, Cap'n," the older man deferred, not minding the menial task on this occasion. "Come on, pet. You'll soon get used to it."
"I doubt that very much, Joshamee, but thank you," she smiled sadly as she followed him down a hatch and into the relative darkness below decks.
…
A week later"Port ho!"
Celia straightened her back and looked up from the task of scrubbing the cabin deck, brushing a strand of hair as it flopped in her eyes. 'I must get my hair cut,' she thought to herself, having got used to and actually liking shorter hair. It had been down past her waist before she joined the convent and then practically shorn when she entered the veil. She had cried bitter tears that first night, mourning her fiancée, her family and of all things, her hair. But now she liked the practicality of it and it annoyed her when it started to get past her shoulders.
"You comin' ashore?" Jack enquired as he burst through the cabin doors, Joshamee Gibbs, Matthias Swain, Thomas Frazer, and Gabriel Jennings follwing behind.
"Where are we?" Celia asked, gettin to her feet and straightening down her dress.
"Nassau," the captain of the Black Pearl informed her, raising his eyebrows as she gasped in shock. "Is there a problem with Nassau?"
"No," she panted. "It's just where we arrived when we sailed from England."
"So, are you coming ashore or not?" Joshamee Gibbs asked, smiling kindly at her.
"I'm not sure it would be a good idea. The priest might see me and wonder why I am not in the Virgin Islands."
"Come on," Jack chivied. "I doubt you'll bump into him, not th'places we'll be goin'."
Celia sighed, wanting nothing more than to feel firm ground beneath her feet again. 'It can't be any worse than Tortuga,' she reasoned with herself. 'And you survived there – just.' She looked at Jack and smiled shyly. "All right, I will."
"Good girl," he grinned, sitting himself on his chair and beckoning his crewmen to take a seat themselves.
Celia had learned a lot of what went on, on board during the past week, thanks to cleaning the cabin. Jack had never ordered her out, even when discussing punishment for the crew or plotting an attack on a ship they had spotted. Much to her relief, the ship disappeared from view and Jack had decided not to pursue it. She was dreading the time when they did beset a ship, having heard tales from the men who delighted in teasing and scaring her when their captain or quartermaster were not around. She carried on with her work, whilst the group of men sat at the table discussing who would be the best person to purchase some new cannons and munitions from in Nassau.
"I reckon Ben Purcell'd be th'best idea," Swain offered, drawing murmurs of agreement from around the table.
"Aye," Jack mused idly, his eyes on the young girl's backside as it moved backwards and forwards as she scrubbed.
Joshamee Gibbs frowned, then looked around to see what had caught his captain's attention and frowned deeper. "Or maybe William Teach…" he suggested, winking at the shocked looks on the crewmen's faces.
"Hmm, perhaps," their captain muttered, his attention still on Celia. "Eh?" he eventually spluttered. "Have you taken leave of your senses, Gibbs? You don't do business with Blackbeard!"
"No, of course not, Captain," the porty man chuckled, along with the rest of the group.
"Are you takin' th'piss?" Jack enquired, glowering at his quartmaster.
"Me, Captain? Perish th'thought…" Gibbs replied innocently. "Just merely making a suggestion…"
"In that case, keep your suggestions to yourself in future, savvy?" Jack sniped. "Ben Purcell, did you say?" he asked Matthias Swain. "He's Deane's cousin isn't he?"
"Aye, Cap'n," Swain nodded. "Though I don't think he and Elliot have seen each other fer a while.
"I think young Mister Deane can come with me an' do some business," Jack grinned, hoping to trade in an family loyalties.
"I'll go an' inform him," Swain smiled, rising from his chair and making for the door as the sound of the anchor chains being lowered rang around the cabin.
Celia looked up again, remembering the last time that she had heard that sound in this port and she gulped back the tears, thinking of her friend Beth who had perished during the storm which had hit the ship taking them to the Virgin Isles.
"Aye, we'd best be off as well," Joshamee agreed, as he and the remaining men followed suit, leaving Jack still in his seat watching Celia.
"You all right, luv?" he asked, pursing his lips and pressing his fingertips together as he leaned forward on the table.
"Yes," Celia nodded, smiling weakly. "I'm fine…"
"No you're not," Jack admonished, gettin to his feet and walking over to her. "What's wrong?" he asked, squatting down to her level.
"Apart from the fact that I am stuck on this ship full of pirates, working my fingers to the bone and have no friends I can talk to, nothing. Nothing at all," she retorted, glaring at Jack as he chuckled. "And what, pray, is so funny?"
"That's th'first spark you've shown since we left Tortuga," he mused. "You'll be all right."
"I am so glad you think so, Captain!" she spat, plashing the godstone into the pail, angrily, sending water splashing over Jack. "Oh dear, I am sorry…"
"I'm sure you are," he remarked dryly, standing and brushing his breeches down. "Go an' get dressed before I change my mind an' keep you on board."
"What is wrong with what I have on? It's not as if I'm a lady any longer, is it?" Celia retorted.
"I will not be seen with you in skivvy's clothes," Jack sighed. "I make an effort at least," he said, indicating his good quality breeches, fine brocade waistcoat and resonably clean cream silk shirt. "Now get changed – you have five minutes or I'll come an' dress you myself, savvy?"
"I won't have time to wash," she protested, hurrying towards the chest where her other two dresses were stored, and pulling out a lemon coloured dress with three quarter length sleeves.
"You still be cleaner than most of th'women there," Jack shrugged. "Four minutes…"
"You are impossible!" Celia pouted, flouncing off to the side cabin to change.
"That's why you love me," Jack quipped, laughing at her snort of derision. "Three minutes…"
"You cannot count, Captain Sparrow. There is no way that two minutes have already passed."
"I know," he chuckled wickedly. "An' I can count perfectly. One minute…"
"Oh!" she sighed exasperatedly as she quickly shed her work clothes and pulled on the dress, her fingers fumbling with the laces as she looked anxiously towards the drapes which were the only thing between her and the pirate. "Don't you dare come in!"
"It's my cabin," Jack drawled lazily, his voice sounding too close for Celia's comfort.
"There!" she announced, pulling the drapes back and not being at all surprised to find him just on the other side of them. "I'm ready." Celia smiled sweetly at his look of mock hurt, and crossed the cabin to the doors. "Are you coming?"
"Oh yes," he grinned, knowing the hidden meaning would go right over her head.
"Tell me… Jack, what am I to do if I need to purchase things? It's not as if I am earning a wage with you."
"Hmmm," he pondered, pressing a finger against his lips as he regarded her. "I could always give you two pennies a week wages, but that means only threepence would go to paying off your debt an' you'd be on board longer."
Celia sighed, she'd had a feeling his answer would be somewhere along those lines. "Perhaps when I need something, I could ask you for the reduction for that week only?" she suggested.
"Sounds good ter me, luv," Jack agreed, pushing the door open for her and patting her backside as she went through to the main deck.
"Please desist from doing that," she hissed.
"You shouldn't have such a lovely arse," he teased, winking at her and delighting in seeing a red flush creep over her face.
"That is hardly appropriate, Captain."
"I'm hardly appropriate, Miss Hammond. Come on, th'chair's been rigged fer you."
"Oh." Celia stopped dead on seeing a more sturdy chair in place of the simple bench and ropes that had been there previously.
"Th'carpenter knocked this up fer you, knowing how you didn't like th'other one," Jack explained, helping her to sit in the seat and fastening a rope around her waist. "Better?"
"Much," Celia agreed, settling herself in. "Thank you, Mister Orchard," she smiled at the ship's carpenter who was hovering by the rail. "I'm very grateful to you."
"Well," he replied, his face colouring. "Yer goin' ter be on board a while yet, so I thought this'd be better fer ya."
"Did it off his own bat as well, he did," Jack grinned, climbing down the side as the chair was lowered to a boat, already containing Noah Trinity and Elliot Deane.
"Then that makes him more thoughtful than you, at least," Celia sniped, flashing Jack another sweet smile.
"How am I not thoughtful?" Jack protested indignantly. "I've been on my best behaviour since you came on board. I've haven't been untoward with you, have I?"
Celia said nothing as she concentrated on gettin into the boat safely, but privately agreed. During the past week, Jack had gone out of his way to be kind and courteous to her and she had started to wonder if he had changed his mind about wanting to bed her, but she doubted it somehow. 'Probably trying to sweeten me up,' she thought caustically.
"How long since you saw your cousin?" Jack asked his young crewman, Elliot Deane, who had taken up the oars with Noah and was starting to row the boat towards the shore.
"Ooh, about five years, Cap'n. He might not recognise me now, I was a right runt th'last time we met."
"Yo ain't much bigger now," Noah grinned, his smile white against his dark skin. "Yo got a mark ter show 'im who yo am?"
"He'll know," Elliot insisted, pulling a face at his mate's jesting. "Yer look very nice, Miss Hammond," changing the subject as he complimented her with all the confidence of youth.
"Thank you," Celia smiled, inwardly chucking at Jack's dark look. "It is pleasant to wear a pretty dress now and then."
"Hmpf!" Jack snorted. "You could always dress fer dinner, if you want ter wear pretty things."
'And give you the wrong idea? I don't think so…' "Maybe," she replied. "Do you come from the Caribbean then, Elliot?" she enquired, using his tack of changing the subject.
"Aye, I was born at sea," he beamed. "Me mam brought us up on Trinidad but as soon as I was old enough ter go ter sea, I did."
"With your cousin?" Celia asked, genuinely interested.
"Nah, Miss. With th'Cap'n. He came by once an' I asked ter join them."
She turned her attention to the pirate captain who was watched the town drawing ever closer. "And just what were you coming by for?"
"Th'usual – pillage, plunder, mayhem…"
"Do you feel no shame in what you do?"
"This ain't th'time nor th'place fer a sermon, Celia, so don't start," he warned, arching his eyebrows at her.
"It's what I'm here for," she shrugged, holding on to the side of the boat as it bumped against the wharf and Noah threw up a mooring line.
"Not on my ship, you're not."
"Not even if the men wanted a sermon on a sabbath day?"
"You're not a priest, you can't sermonise," Jack retorted.
"Clutching at straws, are we, Captain?"
"Celia," he growled. "Don't push me…"
"I apologise. I overstepped the mark."
"Apology accepted," Jack nodded, standing and giving her a hand to her feet and over to the ladder on the wall of the docks. "Avert your eyes," he ordered his men as she climbed up.
"I hope that includes you as well," Celia retorted.
"Of course," Jack lied, climbing up once she had reached the top. "Come on Deane, we have business ter do."
"Comin', Cap'n," the youth replied as he hurried up the steps. "I reckon it'd be best ter go into town an' ask fer him. I dunno where he lives."
"All right," his captain nodded, leading the way towards the centre of Nassau with Celia on his arm, trying to keep a steady pace as he swayed and weaved as they walked. Jack doffed his hat to two women as they passed by, making them giggle at his show of respect. "Did you see th'sights whilst you were here before? No? I'll show you after I've finished with Purcell, eh?" he suggested to the young woman on his arm.
"All right," Celia replied uncertainly. "What do you want me to do whilst you are conducting your business?"
"Sit there an' look pretty," Jack grinned. "Maybe flutter your lashes at Purcell every now an' then."
"Certainly not!" she declared. "I am not some wanton whore."
"I never said you were," Jack sighed, rolling his eyes. "It just might help sweeten him a bit, that's all."
"Well you'll just have to rely on the old Sparrow charm then, won't you?" Celia sniped.
"I don't think Purcell would be too interested in th'old Sparrow charm," Jack chuckled. "Th'Hammond charm is another matter, though…"
"No," Celia stated firmly. "I hope that isn't the reason you wanted me."
"Oh no," Jack assured her with a wicked grin. "I want you for another reason entirely!"
"Captain Sparrow! I'm going back to the ship, now!"
"Sorry, sorry," Jack winced, realising that this time he had overstepped the mark. "I was only teasin', eh?"
Celia glowered at Jack and then at their young companion as he vainly attempted to stifle a laugh. "One more comment like that…" she warned.
"There won't be," Jack assured her. "Best behaviour, I promise."
"That'd be a first," Celia sniped, trying hard not to react at the hangdog look on Jack's face. "Stop it," she retorted but the words lost their sting as the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile. "You're impossible, Jack Sparrow!"
"I did it!" he beamed delightedly. "I made her smile."
"I do smile, you know," she replied, a little hurt.
"I'll stop whilst I'm ahead then," Jack winked, nudging his grinning crewman.
"I would," Celia observed, the ghost of a smile still playing on her lips.
"Elliot?" a voice called across the town square. "Bleedin' hell, it's our Elliot!"
"Ben!" Elliot Deane called and left his companions to run across to where another man was standing, waving his arms as he went.
"His brother?" Jack wondered as he pondered the likeness between the stranger and his crewman.
"They certainly look like brothers," Celia agreed as she and Jack changed direction and started to walk towards the two men.
"Cap'n Sparrow, this is me cousin, Ben Purcell," Elliot grinned.
"Cousin?" Jack echoed, raising his eyebrows. "You sure?"
"Aye," Purcell laughed. "Our mothers are twins an' we look like our mothers."
"Identical twins I take it?" Jack smiled, shaking Purcell's offered hand. "Captain Jack Sparrow, an' this is my companion, Miss Hammond."
"Pleasure ter meet yer, Cap'n, Miss," Ben nodded. "I was just goin' fer a drink – care ter join me as I'm guessin' me little cousin here hasn't dragged yer all across town fer th'sights."
"You guess correctly," Jack confirmed, following Purcell as he lead the way to a run down tavern.
…
"Thank goodness we're out of that place," Celia spluttered, the tobacco smoke that fugged the tavern making her throat sore and eyes water and she wondered how Elliot could bear to stay in there, drinking with his cousin.
"Aye, but it was worth it," Jack grinned, very pleased that he'd made a good deal on two twenty four pounders, plus enough munitions to last him for a few months, depending how many ships they attacked in that time.
"I'm glad you think so," the young woman moped. "I stink to high heaven now."
"I'll make it up ter you," Jack chuckled, patting her hand which was resting on his arm.
"How do you propose that?" she enquired caustically. "Or don't I want to know?"
"Hey! I'm not completely reprehensible, you know!" he protested, moving his hand to his heart and pretending to look hurt.
"I believe you, thousands wouldn't," Celia teased with a smile.
"Hmpf! Well, if that's th'way you feel…"
"Oh no!" Celia gasped, shrinking back. "Brother Paul!"
"Brother Paul?" Jack enquired, turning around as Celia hid herself behind him. "Th'priest?"
"No," she hissed. "The deacon. Don't move for goodness sake, or he'll see me."
"Believe me, young lady, you're drawing far more attention ter yourself with your little performance than anything I'm doing."
"Jack!" Celia pleaded. "Don't move."
"All right," he sighed. "I won't if you won't." Jack bent down and pressed his lips against Celia's, wrapping his arms tightly around her to quell the struggle he knew would come, then turning them both around so that Celia's back was to the deacon.
"Stop it!" Celia gasped when she broke free. "He's more likely to notice me if we're kissing in public, you fool!"
"Charmin,'" Jack muttered as he nuzzled her neck and behind her ear. "He hasn't even glanced this way…"
"Stop it," she moaned, her legs turning weak as forbidden desire raged through her body at his contact. "Please…"
"No," he replied, the tip of his tongue idly playing in the folds of her ear. "I'll only stop when you want me to, an' you're not givin' me th'impression that you want me to."
"I want you to…" she panted, holding on to him in case her legs gave way. "Please stop."
"Still not convinced," Jack rumbled in her ear, the sound sending another wave of fire coursing through her veins.
"Let me go," Celia demanded, releasing her hold on him and trying to pull away from his grasp.
"Ah, now you see," Jack grinned wolfishly as he let her go. "You were holdin' on so tightly, I couldn't move."
"You…"
"Rougishly handsome bastard?" he suggested with a laugh.
"You got the last word right," came the risposte and Celia stomped off in the direction of the town square, confusion tearing through her head as she tried to deal with the conflicting feelings the intimacy had caused.
"I am shocked, Miss Hammond!" Jack admonished teasingly as he caught up with her. "You are gettin' into bad ways!"
"And just whom do I have to thank for that?" she retorted, glaring at him.
"Celia, you inflict th'harshest wounds on me!" he cried theatrically, clutching at his heart as if it were breaking.
"Oh!" Celia sighed with exasperation, rolling her eyes and hurrying away once more, making eye contact with the deacon, who was looking in her direction. "Oh no," she groaned, hoping that he would not recognise her.
"Ignore him – nothin' ter do with th'church," Jack shrugged, taking her arm and raising his hat to the clergyman.
"But I am not doing what I came over here to do," she argued, trying to free her arm. "Let go!"
"Bit late fer propriety," he chuckled. "An' by th'way, I lied about him not watchin' us…"
"That doesn't surprise me," Celia snapped, closing her eyes in horror as the deacon started to walks towards them.
"You came to Father Michael's didn't you?" he asked as he neared them. "You were one of the missionaries sent over – what are you doing with a pirate!" he demanded angrily. "Speak, girl!"
"Don't talk to her like that," Jack hissed menacingly. "It's none of your damned business."
"Of course it is my business," Brother Paul replied, reaching out for Celia to pull her away from Jack.
"Don't you dare lay a finger on her, either," Jack warned, his hand itching to reach for his dagger, but he thought better of it. "She's with me."
"Not in that way," Celia wailed. "I-I'm working for him… oh… that's not what I meant," she groaned as the deacon eyed her questioningly. "I was taken by pirates and was to be sold, Ja… Captain Sparrow came to my rescue."
"You seriously expect me to believe you after what I witnessed earlier?" Brother Paul sniped, sneering down his nose at her. "You're not a woman of God, you're a cheap little whore," he spat, his head snapping back as Jack punched him.
"You worthless cur," the pirate snarled, as he hauled the younger man to his feet, gripping his robes and pulling him in close. "She did her best ter do your God's work in Tortuga, put herself in all kinds of danger ter try an' convert hardened bastards. So you have no right ter stand in judgement of her, savvy?"
The deacon flinched in the face of the pirate's anger but said nothing, smoothing down his cassock as Jack pushed him away. He glared once more at Celia before turning on his heel and hurrying down the street, glancing back once as he rounded a corner, and then disappeared from view.
"Oh no," Celia wept. "What am I going to do now?"
"Nothin'," Jack replied, putting a consoling arm around her shoulders. "One, there's nothin' you can do – you're bound ter me. An' two, you're far better than him, so don't lose any sleep over him, savvy?"
"But he's going to go to Father Michael and tell him that I'm a whore and a pirate's woman," she groaned, running her hand through her hair.
"So? Sticks an' stones…"
"My reputation will be ruined!" Celia cried.
"I hate ter have ter break this to you, luv, but it already is…"
"Not in the eyes of the church, it isn't - wasn't. What if he sends word to my family?" she fretted.
"So, write to them first. Explain that you were kidnapped an' that I saved you. You don't have ter tell them I'm a pirate… a merchant ship owner, perhaps."
"I will not lie to my family."
"So don't lie, just don't tell them I'm a pirate."
"Jack! I can't do that. It would still be decieving them, even if it wasn't an outright lie."
"Tell them th'truth then," he suggested.
"Oh…" Celia threw her hands in the air with vexation and looked around at the town square as if searching for an answer. "I'd like to go back to the ship, if I may," she finally said, needing some peace and quiet to digest everything that had happened during the last few minutes.
"I'll be stayin' ashore," Jack warned her.
"I know," she nodded. "Would it be all right if I locked the cabin doors?"
"Of course," he agreed. "Come on then, let's get you back to th'quay."
"Thank you," Celia smiled weakly, allowing herself to be lead once more.
…
Author's notes:
cannons
And sorry for double alerts – you can't edit a chapter any more!
