Chapter 8
An Impressive Engagement
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The next several days to Mabel were a flurry of activity thriving with commotion and that heart pounding feeling of excitement and danger. And not all of it was due to the fact that Mabel was engaged in secret meetings with Will and Elizabeth Turner and a wanted pirate. That was part of it, yes, but the reason the rest of the household was up in a ruckus couldn't be further from the truth.
It had been perhaps four days ago as Mabel was readying herself for a day in the town (with Elizabeth Turner and gaggle of maids), brushing her hair and such, when Joyce had suddenly burst into her room, screaming and laughing, her shoes pounding so loudly on the wooden floor that Mabel would have thought she was dancing. And she had been.
Now, Mabel was well aware that Joyce had never been entirely proper (that particular honour went to Thomas), but having her sister dancing her bedroom like a madwoman and laughing ridiculously was quite enough.
"What's gotten into you?" Mabel demanded, carefully placing her comb on her vanity table.
Her younger sister flew at her and into her arms, and then proceeded to press several wet and sloppy kisses all over Mabel's cheeks. She shouted in protest, attempting to detangle her sister, but Joyce merely enveloped her in a hug. She pressed her cheek to her sister's, still shaking with laughter, and much to Mabel's surprise, she felt the dampness of tears. Joyce was crying. Or had been crying. And it was her duty to find out why.
"Oh, what's wrong?" she had finally embraced her sister back, and stood up to lead her to the bed. When they had both taken a seat Joyce began giggling uncontrollably once again, as if Mabel's question had been terribly funny—which it hadn't been.
"Nothing! Nothing's wrong! Everything is perfect!" The last line was said with such conviction that it startled Mabel.
"Why the tears, then?" she demanded, keeping a firm grip on her sister's arms. "And all around ridiculousness? What? Why are you laughing?""
Mabel felt her sister fall back onto the bed, breathless with laughter.
"I'm engaged!" she squeaked out between breaths.
Now to say that had been a surprise for Mabel was an understatement. She rightly felt as though someone had socked her in the stomach and then kicked her again while she was down.
"W-what?" she choked, attempting to take hold of her sister's hands. What a joke! What a terrible joke!
And still giggling, Joyce had placed her left hand in her sister's, and Mabel felt her ring finger—rightly named because there was a rather large ring encircling there. Mabel was breathless with shock and could only manage to swallow the thick lump of surprise lodged in her throat.
"You…you're engaged?" It sounded as unbelievable as it was.
"Oh yes! I didn't think he would! But he did!" Joyce let out a dreamy sigh.
"He did!" Mabel exclaimed shrilly, feeling a surge of fierce fear jolting her to the bones. "Who is he?" she demanded sharply.
Joyce didn't seem the least bit intimidated, but manhandled her suddenly enraged older sister into an enthusiastic embrace.
"James Norrington," was the name whispered breathlessly into her ear.
Mabel stiffened, shock overtaking anger. "The—the commodore?"
She felt Joyce nod, and a choked laugh escaped Mabel's lips. "The commodore," she repeated weakly, a perceptible amount of disbelief in her voice. "He…him…You've been meeting the commodore by the docks? He's the big secret?"
"Yes!" Joyce giggled girlishly, nearly bouncing with excitement at this secret revealed.
Mabel attempted a meagre laugh. "You've been carrying out a secret affair with the commodore?" She froze suddenly as realization slapped her in the face. "You've been carrying out a secret affair with the commodore!" she accused loudly, the weight of her own words hitting her like a ten-pound brick.
Mabel disentangled herself from her sister's embrace and shot up from the bed. She was surprised at how shaky she was on her feet. "You...you…do you honestly have any idea what you've done! What you've done to yourself? What you've done to the commodore? Think of the gossip! Think of your reputation! You can't go secretly meeting a man and-and-and…" she stuttered, voice failing her.
"Calm down," Joyce's soothing voice interrupted her just as Mabel began realizing the secret irony of her panicked words.
The blind woman sank down onto the bed, trembling slightly. She felt slightly ill. "Good god, how can you be calm? You're engaged to Commodore James Norrington, whom you've been having a secret affair with for—for…how long?"
Joyce snickered. "Last night it was our three-month anniversary and he proposed! Oh! I couldn't wait to tell you but I didn't want to wake you last night…"
Mabel deflated and slipped her fingers into her now dishevelled hair. "Good god, you've given me a devilish headache…" she bemoaned, and sank back down onto the bed.
Joyce merely laughed and enveloped her sister into an entirely too-tight hug.
--
Strangely enough, their mother's reaction to Joyce's state of engagement was even more dramatic that Mabel's…
"You're engaged?" was the shout heard around the world, twice as shrill as anything Mabel could come up with.
Eleanor's wine spewed forth from her mouth and the goblet thrown in the air to come down on the floor with an ear-splitting clatter. A shocked and tense silence reigned not in that one room, but the entire house, which seemed to suddenly tremble on its very foundations. This had happened at the dinner table, of course, with only the two daughters present. Royce was there as well—finally allowed in the house. He was there licking up the wine the second after it hit the floor.
"I am, mother," Joyce confirmed in such a bold way that Mabel thought she was as good as dead. You do not speak so surely to Eleanor Browning and live to tell the tale.
There was a spluttering from Eleanor's general direction, and Mabel picked up her own goblet of wine as if to hide behind it. She downed its entire contents, feeling sick to her stomach.
"You—you!" Eleanor was stumbling over her words. Never a good sign.
Mabel braced herself, keeping the goblet at her lips as if to appear occupied.
"You're engaged!"
Now, why did that particular shriek sound more happy than not, Mabel wondered.
And then, Joyce broke out into hysterical giggles.
"You're engaged!" Eleanor said again, this time the joy clearly heard in her voice. "And to the commodore!" By now, Mabel imagined, the maids and servants had tiptoed their way from various corners of the house and were now crowded behind the corners and doors listening into the conversation and whispering amongst themselves.
The news had indeed been broken.
"My little girl's engaged! Ruth, Wallace! Giles!" Mabel heard the grating sound of Eleanor's chair sliding over the wood of the floor as she bolted up from her seat. "Oh, look at that ring! Oh goodness! Oh my goodness!"
Oh god. Honestly. Mabel was in shock. She was certain her mother and sister were in the midst of an embrace, tears streaming down their cheeks whilst the maids and servants looked on.
The fact that Eleanor stopped for only a mere second to consider her daughter's behaviour the past three months before the joy of the occasion overcame her and she became a stuttering mass of tears, hugs and kisses would have greatly unnerved Mabel if she wasn't so distracted. Also, she may have found it disturbing that her mother was so overcome with happiness that her youngest daughter was engaged (before her eldest), if she hadn't been so relieved that Joyce had not been banished to some deep and dark corner of the house for the rest of eternity.
Well, perhaps that was a bit much.
As it was, Mabel was probably in more shock than anyone. With feelings so mixed, she hardly noticed the rousing of something sinister in the darkest corner of her soul, brought to life when her sister first broke the news but remaining and idle spark overshadowed by things more important.
And as it went, Eleanor's mood spread to the entire gentry of Port Royal as Joyce and the good commodore broke the news together (which involved much flaunting of Joyce's ridiculously large engagement ring.) Mabel imagined the smiles on their faces. She didn't know the commodore well, but she was quite ready to become good friends with him. She also tried not to form an opinion on the man, but she's heard mixed things from mixed people. They hadn't yet had a formal introduction—Joyce hadn't even brought him to dinner, but Mabel suspected that she would first meet her sister's sweetheart the night of the engagement dinner Eleanor was planning.
No, no an engagement dinner: an engagement gala, an engagement banquet.
Eleanor Browning was a woman to be reckoned with while planning such things. While everything was rather rushed—the date on the invites only a week from when they were sent, she had somehow found the time to invite the entire gentry of Port Royal as well as several other towns. It was to be held at the commodore's house. Mabel had never been there before.
Fortunately, the incoming party had her mother very distracted. Two days after the announcement Elizabeth had finally convinced Mabel to introduce her to Eleanor. Mabel thought it was an altogether bad idea, but it happened anyway. The two met when she came to collect Mabel for a day of dress fitting in Port Royal. It was the married woman's idea, of course. Elizabeth insisted she needed a new dress for her sister's engagement party. Mabel felt rather indifferent to the beauty of dresses, however, for obvious reasons (although she did enjoy the feel of some fabrics).
Thankfully, the meeting had gone well. Mabel had to lie about their meeting, of course, telling Eleanor that they'd bumped into each other at Mr Bentley's shoe shop, where they'd haggled over a pair of shoes they both wanted and neither ended up buying. Eleanor was thoroughly amused by that story.
Mabel had been told the carriage Elizabeth arrived in was magnificent, and her dress was stunning (the latest fashion from London), which might have staunched Eleanor's immediate dislike for the woman. Well, perhaps it was no immediate because she had always spoken somewhat badly of the lady who'd refused the commodore's hand in marriage and instead married below her rank. Mabel had warned Elizabeth of this.
Elizabeth needed no help, though. She put on a grand show of polished graciousness and manners, managing a smatter of suitable charming tactics and compliments, and Mabel could feel Eleanor's dislike crumbling as quickly as when a biscuit was dipped in tea. The commodore had someone else in mind for marriage now, anyhow.
In the end, Eleanor had shocked Mabel by seeing them into their carriage and sending them off with an invitation to dinner for Elizabeth and her husband.
Needless to say, Mabel was relieved.
--
Part of Elizabeth's taking reason for Mabel to the dress shop had been because she could no longer visit her husband any time she wished. Will had, with some regret, told his wife to stay in Port Royal—away from Jack and his crew while they worked on repairs. Away from danger. Apparently, Elizabeth harboured some resentment over that. After the lady working there had taken Mabel's measurements, Elizabeth steamed forwards into a heartfelt tirade concerning inconsiderate husbands and rotten pirates.
"But of course he still doesn't seem to remember that I can take quite good care of myself! It's as though he can't remember that I was right there, right beside him the whole time we were fighting off un—I mean, Barbossa's crew and such!" Elizabeth ranted heatedly as they stood in the dressmaker's shop picking out fabrics for Mabel's new dress.
Mabel preferred to keep her mouth shut.
"Can you believe him, Mabel?" the younger woman asked, holding a length of soft fabric in her hands yet paying no attention to it.
Mabel smiled. "Well, he does have a point," she began, and lowered her voice considerably. "Spending the day with pirates isn't exactly a…a bright thing to do…"
Huffing, Elizabeth pushed the fabric into the blind woman's hands. "Here, tell me if you like the feel of this," she muttered before continuing with her tirade. "But if he knew that I have no problem with it! As much as I hate to admit it, I have missed Jack over the months. But Will won't let me speak to him! It's not as though he can visit whenever the whim comes upon him, you know." She took a deep breath. "Do you like it?"
"Not at all, it's far too scratchy," Mabel replied while setting the fabric back down in the pile they'd accumulated.
"Yes, I thought so too. And I think a lighter blue would go better with your hair…and you're eyes…" she stated softly, and then sighed. "I don't like this at all, Mabel."
"What do you suppose we do?" Mabel asked humorously, resisting the temptation to tune the younger woman out. Jack Sparrow was an interesting character, to be sure—and she wouldn't protest against meeting him again—but the thought of what trouble she could get in being seen around such people made her feel rather ill. She was beginning to feel drained by putting up such an act of falsity around her family.
Elizabeth sniffed, and Mabel imagined her hands were on her hips and a frown was on her face. "Well, if it were up to me I'd be down there right at this very moment!"
--
As far as repairs went, Will had used money Jack supplied him to buy more than enough wood and nails for repairing the ship (and for maintenance for quite a while), as well as several yards of new sail which was now in the process of being dyed black.
Hard labour was the only thing left to do. It was the most difficult and gruelling task Will had put himself to yet. For the past four days he had been helping Jack's crew patch up the Pearl, careen her, and fix her sails (although he was terrible with a needle), and while they'd made surprising progress he felt as if the work would never end. All he wanted to do was go home and see his wife, but Elizabeth wasn't in the best of moods with him of late. So he worked until his bones ached and then went home, only to be given the cold shoulder, and the cycle continued.
Presently, Will stopped his hammering on the side of the ship and wiped his sweating brow. He squinted up at the sky where the sun teetered directly above them and then to the ocean. The sunlight pierced through the waves gently rolling in, colouring the waters a brilliant blue and green.
"Let's take a break, then," Jack said from beside him, dropping his hammer and stretching languidly. His thin shirt was damp with sweat, but he didn't seem tired.
Will sent him an odd look but didn't protest. Together, they scaled down the small makeshift scaffold that had been thrown together to reach areas of repair that weren't on ground level. They trudged through the shallow water and onto the beach, where Jack collapsed with a groan of contentment. Will lowered himself in a much more graceful manner, watching the crew bustling about the beach and the ship to the sound of hammering and sawing.
"Everything's coming along well," the blacksmith commented lightly.
Pulling a flask from his belt, Jack took a quick swig before offering it to Will. "Aye. I reckon a few more days and we'll at least be ready to sail for Tortuga."
Will took the proffered flask. "Tortuga? Are you sure this Hugh Vanderveer won't be hiding out there waiting for you?"
Jack gave him a serious look, his dark eyes grave. "At this point, I don't know anything, Will. But I'd rather take my chances in Tortuga where I've a friend or two than stay here much longer with the bloody commodore at my back."
Will nodded, but didn't say anything. They passed the flask between each other until all the grog within was gone and Jack tossed it carelessly behind him. He gave Will a wry grin.
"Gibbs doesn't know I took that," he laughed.
Will smiled. "Jack," he started slowly, and the pirate arched an eyebrow at him. "It occurred to me that you've never told Elizabeth or me exactly how you met Mabel."
Jack's look became pensive. "Ah, Miss Mabel. Lovely lass, don't you agree?" He grinned suddenly. "She was out with that cursed mutt of hers; the one I reckon doesn't leave her even when she sleeps. It's a wonder the beast's owner doesn't miss it—or maybe the Lady Browning only wanted to be rid of the thing. I sure would."
"Jack," Will scolded him, yet was befuddled by the pirate's words.
"Oh, I was telling ye how I met the lass," Jack smiled. "Well, t'was the same day I ran the Pearl ashore. Early morning, not a soul in sight. Several men and myself went scouting the area to check for danger—commodores and the like. What we came upon was a bloody dog. And then there came a woman, chasing after the thing and shouting and generally making a big racket. Silly chit, I say, running about the beach with no one but her dog an hour after dawn."
Will had to agree. "I admit Mabel sometimes doesn't seem to have a lick of sense about her, but she's rather clever at the same time."
Jack stifled a snort. "Ah, well, we hid in the bushes and the dog starts doing what a dog does. Digging holes and sniffing around. Then the beast catches our scent and gets all stiff, his hair standing on end, growling and baring his teeth," Jack painted a mental picture while gesticulating with his hands and imitating a snarl. "That girl must have sharp senses, because she catches on right away and calls for us to come out. And, never to refuse a lady's wish, we come out of hiding. By then the dog was looking a mite bit hungry, so I figure we can go our separate ways and avoid any trouble—but she wouldn't have any of it. The lass goes on to threaten us, though she didn't need to 'cause her dog was doing plenty. So I pull my gun on her, but she doesn't seem to notice, you see." Jack grinned slightly. "In fact, she didn't even flinch when she first saw us—and we weren't unarmed and didn't look like gentlemen, I'll tell ye. That was when I put two and two together and figured out she was as blind as a bat. As it went, we did part on peaceful terms. I asked her not to come back to the beach in turn for not causing her any harm." He let out a barking laugh and stared pensively at the water. "Aye, and look what she does. A day later, I find her in the forest because her bloody dog's gone and run into our camp. That was the day I told her my name was John Smith, though obviously she didn't believe me." Jack faced Will and frowned unpleasantly when he saw the younger man was wearing a smile.
"You're angry with her because she outwitted you, and dare I say it—helped you," Will concluded with a laugh. "Though she was quite trusting of you, wasn't she?"
Jack decided not to comment on the blacksmith's earlier words. "Aye, either she's incredibly perceptive or incredibly stupid," he said shortly, and stood, brushing the sand from his breeches.
Will followed his lead. "I'd say she's a bit starved for exciting activity," he offered as Jack began making his was back to the ship.
Jack turned to give him an odd look, "What's a maid need of that?"
Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Will caught up to the pirate. "Well, considering the Browning family is a bit uptight, especially Mabel's mother from what I hear from Elizabeth, and her brother is a proper military man—" he cut himself off when Jack stopped short.
"What?" he asked sharply.
Will turned to face a suspicious Jack. "What?" he repeated, clearly confused.
"You mean she…" A sudden revelation had hit Jack, and he couldn't help but laugh. "Good god, the lady is a fox! She even had me fooled!" He noticed that Will was looking at him strangely. "And I suppose she never said a word to you?"
"Of what?"
Jack nearly crowed with delight. "Master William, it seems that deal Miss Mabel shares my passion for deceit. Not at all what I thought her. Not a maid," he mused with a grin, "Certainly a lady, and a daring one at that."
Will merely shook his head in wonder at the eccentric captain. "Well, she knows what she wants, and doesn't let her…disability…get in the way."
"Aye, very much like Elizabeth," Jack mused. "Excluding the blind bit, of course."
It was Will's turn to cock an eyebrow at the pirate.
"Say," Jack continued, "How is dear Elizabeth. I haven't seen her since that first day. Keeping her in the house like a proper wife? Finally asserting yourself as the head of the household, are you?" he asked cheekily.
Will was about to berate the pirate, but he received his punishment from a passing Anamaria, who smacked him hard over the back of the head. Jack yelped like a beaten dog, and Will merely sighed, watching the female pirate stroll away, head held high and shoulders thrown back. She began barking orders at a group of pirates who seemed to be taking turns puffing on a pipe while lounging in the sand.
"Bloody woman," Will heard Jack mutter under his breath before he continued on his way.
"Well, Jack, I can't say you didn't deserve it."
--
It was perhaps midday when there was a commotion at the east end of the camp where the beach gave way to forest. Will was in the middle of a somewhat unwanted lesson in caulking with Jerome, who was quite adamant he learn how to properly stuff the caulk and pitch between the cracks in the planks, as if it were a life saving skill. The smell of the stuff was burning his nose.
The sudden sound of a familiar barking distracted him, however, and he completely abandoned his work to turn and look for the source of the commotion. He was dismayed to see that the distant forms of his wife and Mabel had just made their way into camp and were being greeted by some of the crew. He noticed that they had also caught Jack's attention, and the pirate captain was hurriedly making his was towards them.
Without muttering even an apology to Jerome, Will scaled down the scaffold and hit the shallow water with a splash. Then, with a determined stride, he stalked through the water and up the beach. The crowd of pirates gathered around the women more or less dispersed when they noticed the dark look on the blacksmith's face, leaving only the two women, Jack and Gibbs.
"Well, what a lovely surprise," Jack was saying, though Will couldn't tell if he was speaking the truth. "I can't say I was expecting you two ladies today. I was under the impression that—"
"I asked you not to come down here," Will finished, and three pairs of eyes were immediately on him.
Elizabeth was grasping Mabel's hand while the blind woman held her cane in the other. Jack's eyes were darting uneasily between the married couple. Elizabeth was the one to break eye contact, nudging Mabel in the side slightly. The blind woman came to attention, obviously aware of the tension around her, and smiled easily.
Elizabeth turned a brilliant smile on the pirate. "Jack, we've brought you biscuits," she said, and Mabel held up a basket with closed top that had previously gone unnoticed.
"From my kitchen, baked fresh by my cook Wallace," Mabel added quickly.
Jack's eyes darted uneasily from the basket to the women and then to Will, his hands half outstretched and fingers twitching, before he slowly reached out to grasp the handle. Mabel released her grasp and Elizabeth beamed. Then, everyone watched intently as he opened one side of the basket and took out a small biscuit. He tried to ignore their stares as he took a bite and chewed.
The two women were expectant. Will had his hands on his hips and firm set to his jaw.
Jack raised his eyebrows and swallowed with a smile. "Delicious. Thank you," he told them, but it was far from the truth. The biscuits were hard and tough and tasted more like dry dirt that food. Not that he'd had a real biscuit in a long time, mind you.
But he'd made the two women were ecstatic, and he supposed that's what mattered.
Elizabeth was grinning at Mabel, who looked more than pleased with herself. "See, didn't I say you could cook with a bit of help from me!" she exclaimed. "I'll have to try that recipe more often, now."
"And I'll have to get a copy as well," Mabel grinned.
Jack looked visibly ill and swallowed thickly. Discretely, he passed the basket to Gibbs, who cocked an eyebrow at him questioningly. Jack shook his head quickly before turning back, all smiles.
Elizabeth turned her attention to Will, who was now looking more bewildered than angry. She released Mabel and started towards him with another charming smile. "Oh Will, take a break and walk with me. And you'll have to try one of our biscuits later, as well!" She latched onto his arm and began pulling him away down the beach, leaving Jack, Gibbs and Mabel behind.
Jack turned to Gibbs and leaned forward. "Toss 'em," he whispered lowly. Gibbs nodded and shuffled off.
Then, straightening, the pirate captain regarded Mabel, who almost seemed to be gazing out at the water. Her hands were tightly clenching the handle of her cane. Jack took a step forward, eager to speak to the woman now. She'd told him more lies than he could count, and probably still had a few hidden right under his nose, yet he was surprised to realize that he wanted to know more about her.
"So, Miss Browning, I hear your brother is in the navy," he began nonchalantly. "A lieutenant under the commodore, I understand."
Mabel's whole body stiffened as he spoke, and she turned to him with a stiff smile. How had he found that out? "Yes, one of the commodore's right hand men," she said, attempting to raise her chin and look at least a little imposing. Now that he knew who she was, she might as well try to act the part.
Jack stopped but a few feet from her, his eyes studying her face. "And your father was also a man of the navy?" he asked, but she suspected he already knew the answer.
Mabel tilted her chin up. "He was," she said shortly, the paused. "Do you remember our agreement, Captain?"
Jack arched a brow. "I can't say that I do."
"I keep my lips sealed and in return you don't harm me," Mabel recounted, swallowing nervously.
Jack grinned. "Ah, yes. I recall making such an agreement now…" he paused. "Yet I also recall that you didn't keep your end of the deal."
Mabel looked flabbergasted, as if he'd just slapped her in the face. "W-what?" How dare he presume such a thing! After everything she'd risked just to help such a lowly, dirty—
"Well, you told the Turner's did you?"
Oh.
Mabel attempted to regain some of her dignity. "Well! That's completely different! I told them you were here so they could help you, not lock you up!"
Jack sighed dramatically. "Yet, it's a broken accord, m'lady. What do you want me to do?" he asked demurely, quite enjoying the way her face was slowly turning red and the way her hands grasped her cane in a death-grip. Serves the meddling lass right…
She took a deep breath to calm her frazzled nerves. "I'll have you know, Captain," she said the word so contemptuously that he nearly winced, "That if you touch one hair on my head with any such intention to harm me, you'll put your entire crew and ship in danger. The entire Navy will be out for your blood like a pack of wild dogs," she told him serious sincerity.
Jack refrained from pointing out that he was already in that position and instead told her in a very disarming way, "Well then, it's a very good thing that the thought hadn't even crossed my mind."
Mabel could hear the amusement in his voice and realized that he had been meaning to rile her the whole time.
The nerve!
And that was it. Mabel took a deep breath before resolutely shouldering past the pirate captain, cane tapping furiously in the sand in front her. Jack paused a moment, grinning, before turning and following her quickly, catching up easily and falling in step beside her as she led the way down the beach.
"What do you want from me, Captain Sparrow?" she demanded irately, feeling quite inclined to whack him with her cane.
Jack grinned, clasping his hands behind his back to keep them still. "Oh, nothing at all. I just have an insatiable curiosity when it comes to such…anomalies such as yourself. In fact, I find it quite remarkable that a woman like you, with so many military men in the family, is so willing to go behind their backs and help a pirate."
"I believe we've already been through this, Captain," she told him irately.
"Aye," Jack admitted gruffly, "But I'm still a wee bit curious." He didn't wait for a reply, as he noticed she was headed for the Pearl where a group of his men had surrounded the Turners and were now happily chattering away at them, laughing with Elizabeth, who had Will on her arm and seemed to be entertaining them all.
"Hey! Get back to work over there, ye motley minded dogs!"
Mabel halted, surprising Jack. He turned quickly, noting that she looked shocked by the way he addressed his crew.
"Don't worry, they love my endearments for them," he told her lowly, and then swiftly nodded to a passing Cotton carrying a stack of wood. "Keep the good work up, Cotton, and tell Gibbs to report to me within the hour on our progress today."
"Wind in the sails! Wind in the sails!" the parrot squawked loudly, startling Mabel.
"His parrot," Jack explained shortly, watching at Cotton walked away. "He's trained the thing to talk for him, since he got his tongue cut out."
Mabel didn't want to ask how he could possibly understand a parrot and shook her head, starting forward again.
However, without warning, Jack grasped hold of her arm and swung her around in another direction, linking his arm with hers in the same motion.
Mabel gave a short yelp of surprise, stumbled, and then immediately untangled her arm from his grasp, stopping abruptly with a look of anger upon her face. "Captain Sparrow, I'd kindly ask you not to…toss me around like that! I'm perfectly capable of walking on my own, and I should like it to be that way!" she snapped shrilly, causing the pirate to wince.
Jack realized his look of surprise was unseen to her. "Forgive me; I was under the impression that a gentleman always escorts a lady. My apologies," he replied smoothly.
He sounded so sufficiently pitiful that Mabel immediately felt foolish for getting angry with him, and didn't even snap off a reply involving the scathing words, "pirates aren't gentlemen." Instead, she took a deep breath and managed an apologetic smile. It wasn't his fault, she told herself. She had been the one getting angry at him.
"No, it is I who should be apologizing," she amended. "You're absolutely right," she told him, and even offered her arm out for him to take.
For obvious reasons, she missed Jack's self-satisfied grin as he once again linked her arm with his.
"All's forgiven?" Jack offered, and she nodded.
"Of course."
Jack led her up the beach, circling around his crew before heading for the water where the giant form of the beached ship loomed over to their left. Mabel noticed that the sound of the surf hitting the beach was louder and figured they were no more than twenty feet from the ocean. Her cane, being unused, was clutched in her left hand. She licked her lips nervously when she realized how close to him she really was, so close that she could smell the salty ocean on him and hear that curious jingle that always accompanied his person. She was almost content with his silence but realized she much better preferred him talking—not just because he was a clever talker, but because she enjoyed the sound of his voice.
Jack stopped then, and they simply stood, arms intertwined. Mabel breathed in the smell of the air.
"Do you like the ocean, Miss Browning?" Jack's voice broke their silence.
Mabel thought that was a rather odd question, but coming from an odd man…
"Well, I suppose I have to considering I live along the coast of an island surrounded by it," she told him candidly.
Beside her, Jack laughed. She was very aware that he'd not yet let go of her arm—something a gentleman would do—yet refused to say anything.
"That wasn't what I meant," he told her with amusement. "Do you like it, or would you rather be living in mainland England where there's nothing by grass an' hills?" He looked down at her curiously.
Mabel seemed thoughtful. "I like—the sound of it. And the smell. And I couldn't imagine living somewhere where I couldn't hear it and know it was there…"
"Aye, that's the same way I feel, love." Jack's eyes strayed to the horizon, a thousand questions running through his head and most of which he contained. "Have ye ever seen it?"
Mabel swallowed. In her dreams, she had. In her dreams, she had seen the way it darkened during a storm, and the way waves larger than her house crashed down upon ships and swallowed them whole. She imagined the way such a wave had come upon her father's ship, crashed down, and left nothing but driftwood in its wake. She dreamed that she was the one drowning in its deep, dark, cold depths.
"No," she answered after a moment.
A pity, Jack thought, but restrained himself from saying it aloud. "Well," he began with a drawl and tugged the blind woman several feet to their right where a large, smooth tree trunk had been washed up onshore. He sat down, pulling her with him. "Down you go, love—Now, It's big, and flat as a pancake on a calm day and peevish as a stuck pig during a storm. But I'm sure you've heard that before."
Mabel managed to sit down fairly gracefully, and propped her cane against the log before attempting to smooth her skirts out.
"Well, not quite in such a manner, Captain Sparrow," she smiled at him.
They fell into silence again, sitting side by side and content that way. Mabel listened to Jack's crew working along the beach, hammering and sawing away. The low murmur of many voices was disturbed occasionally by a sharp bout of laughter, an order, and even more surprisingly—a chorus of a song. Mabel tried to understand the words but found there was too much hooting and laughing in between words to understand it.
Smiling to herself, she wondered about the ship they were working on. What it looked like. How magnificent was it? Did it truly resemble a ghostly spectre of a ship, with black stained wood and black sails?
"How long until the repairs to your ship are complete?" she wondered aloud.
Beside her, Jack sighed. "I figure five days tops. This kind of repair is best done at a dock, and I plan on sailing the Pearl to Tortuga in at least that time," he told her. "Having the commodore less than a town away is making me a bit antsy, if you know what I mean."
She cast him a small smile. "Might I reassure you by telling you the commodore has more or less given up the search for you around Port Royal—if my brother is telling the truth, of course. And he has no reason not to."
Jack glanced at her before fixing his eyes on some far away point across the waters. "Aye, but the dear old commodore ain't my only problem, lass," he said darkly.
Mabel thought she knew what he was speaking of, but chewed her lower lip, hesitant to speak. "It has to do with that map you were speaking about the other day, doesn't it?"
Jack resisted the urge to laugh. He knew it had been a bad idea to tell his story in front of strangers, no matter how helpful they might happen to feel.
"That man, the one you stole the map from," Mabel continued. "You think he's still looking for you? To take it back?"
Jack eyed her closely. "Not just take it back, Miss Browning," he told her slowly. "I've no doubt in my mind that should he find me, he'll kill me and anyone involved with keeping that map from him." He watched Mabel frown, her brow knotting as the information sank in. Perhaps he had said too much. "But enough of that subject—something I'd rather not think about, savvy?" He switched the topic quickly. "I noticed you don't have that blasted dog with you today."
Mabel managed a weak smile, but thoughts of revenge and death still clung to her. "I'm supposed to be getting fitted for a dress, and dogs aren't usually allowed in the tailor's." The tone in her voice suggested that not allowing large dirty animals in clothing shops was preposterous.
Jack cracked a grin. "Ah, a dress for what, might I ask? Or are you one of those ladies who go out buying new dresses as a hobby?"
Mabel laughed and smiled in a way Jack thought was very becoming. "Not quite, Captain. This is a special occasion, you might say," she told him, and suddenly looked decidedly morose. "My sister is getting married. It's a dress for the engagement party, you see."
It was hard not to catch onto whatever the blind woman was feeling. "To whom, might I ask?"
Mabel ruefully wondered what the pirate's response would be if she told him her sister was marrying the man who was intent on hanging him. She decided she wouldn't tempt a pirate further. "Oh, just another navy man. Keeping it in the family, you might say," she added wryly.
Jack wouldn't go into reasons why Mabel was seemingly unhappy her sister was being married. He had an idea, but it was better not to get involved. Don't get unnecessarily involved in anything, was his motto, along too many others involving avoiding, deceit, cheating, and general mischief and unlawfulness.
"Be glad it's not you then," he told her drolly.
"Well said, Captain." Mabel chuckled, unable to contain her smile. This man really wasn't all that bad, now that her temper had gone. She couldn't recall the last time someone had made her smile so much. "But tell me something about yourself. You've managed to remain somewhat of a mystery."
Jack wouldn't say that he'd like to keep being such, but couldn't resist her request simply because his ego wouldn't allow it.
"Well, there's more than a few things I can say about myself, none which are too flattering," Jack started, scratching his head thoughtfully. "How about a story instead?" he suggested.
Mabel could hear his eagerness. "A story?"
"Aye, one of my greatest adventures yet. You haven't heard any of my adventures, have you?" he asked.
"Well, certainly not from you, I haven't," she replied. "From others with a less than favourable outlook on you, however…"
"Let me tell you they're all lying. Its better heard from the one they're about," Jack said glibly. "Now, this particular tale began over ten years ago, back when I was still getting my legs in piracy…"
Mabel didn't know how long they sat for or how long Jack regaled her with his tale of the treacherous mutiny of his first mate Barbossa and his time spent searching for his lost ship until the day he rescued Elizabeth Turner from drowning, an event which turned out to be the catalyst for one of his most dangerous ventures yet. When he began speaking of curses and talking skeletons, she snorted with disbelief, upon which he demanded indignantly if she thought he was lying. She was sceptical, with good reason, but found the story simply wouldn't make sense without such things. She was enraptured not just with his way of storytelling (so exaggerated and humorous she couldn't help but think he had elaborated heavily on the story), but the sound of his gruff voice weaving a spell over her senses. She believed she could almost see what he told her with her blind eyes. Subsequently, she was so wrapped up in his words that when Elizabeth shouting her name, interrupted him, she felt as if someone had jarred her awake from a pleasant dream.
"Mabel!" the younger woman called again. "We must leave if we want to make it back for tea!"
Jack had stopped speaking, his eyes finding Elizabeth several yards away with Will by her side, waving them over.
"Oh," Mabel exclaimed. "How long has it been?" she asked hurriedly.
Jack tilted his head, squinting up at the sun. "An hour, perhaps."
Mabel was surprised Jack had managed to talk for so long, but at the same time disappointed. "Well, I'm terribly sorry…" She truly wanted to hear the rest of his tale, even though she could figure out the ending quite fine herself. To hear it from his lips was completely different, however. "We weren't planning on staying so long…"
Jack resisted the urge to wave her off. "Another time, then," he told her simply, as if they had all the time in the world.
"I'm afraid this visit was more for Elizabeth than me," Mabel told him regretfully, standing from the log.
Following suit, Jack retrieved her cane from the ground. "Aye. No matter how much Will tries, he'll never have Elizabeth on a rope—not that he'd want to, either," he told her amusedly. "However, I can't say I haven't enjoyed you're charming company."
Mabel contained a smirk. "The same to you, Captain Sparrow." She went to reach for her cane, but Jack gently caught her hand and she felt the cool wood of the handle pressed into her palm. Somewhat startled, she thanked him. His hand lingered on her own, and they both seemed to freeze for a moment.
Elizabeth called her again from across the beach, distracting Mabel. She turned back to Jack quickly.
"Perhaps we'll meet again before you leave," she said, and continued without letting him have a word in edgewise. "And if not…well I have to admit it wasn't entirely unpleasant meeting you."
Jack chuckled. "Likewise," he offered, clasping his hands behind his back.
"I…" Mabel looked as though she wished to say more, but lost the battle with herself and sighed. "Goodbye then, Captain." She turned away.
Jack watched her but didn't move. "Aye, and the next time we meet I'll let ye call me Jack!" he called after her, and was certain she heard even though she didn't turn. Elizabeth met her halfway and began talking excitedly in what looked to be a hushed tone.
His eyes met hers over Mabel's head, and he thumbed up the tip of his hat in mock salute, grinning cheekily. Elizabeth smiled back and waved before linking arms with Mabel and guiding her away.
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Author's Notes: My apologies. I've been sitting on this chapter for far too long! I finally gave in a posted it before the next chapter of TTWW, which is on a temporary hiatus while I rework and edit it to death. ;) I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up. I'm at a point in the story where I could go in two completely opposite directions, and I'm still trying to figure out which to take.
Starting with this chapter, I'll be attempting to use the new reply system. Wish me luck! ;)
Review, mes amis!