Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is a poem written by William Herbert Carruth.
Chapter 9: Each In His Own Tongue
Morning came quicker than usual, in Camille's opinion. As she dressed, she looked at herself in the mirror. There was no way she could keep this from them. She no longer desired to wear a corset or many undergarments, and only troubled with the bare necessities of her outfit (even though that still made a lot of clothing). But her chest still felt very constricted, even after sitting down.
She got up again and took a deep breath. She had to do this. She descended the staircase and almost forgot her predicament as she could hear Gretchen chattering away. She peered around into the dining room, and could see Gretchen talking vividly to an extremely bored looking Will. She pressed her lips together to hold in a laugh, and took a deep breath.
"William, could you please help me in the kitchen?" she called, suddenly banging pots and pans together to make it sound as if she were busy.
Not a split second later, Will appeared looking very glad to be in the kitchen. Camille grinned. "Good morning, Mr. Turner."
He set his mouth in a straight line. "I don't want to hear another word from you. Nothing is going on."
"Perhaps not on your end of the infatuation."
"How long are the Thatchers supposed to be here?"
"Not for long," said Gabriel, bursting into the kitchen. He leaned on the table, looking at the two of them. "Jack wants to go to Colombia."
Will looked at him. "Colombia? Why on earth would he want to go there?"
Camille shut her eyes tightly, like she had just seen a gruesome image. "I don't know," she said in a fluttery voice. They both noticed her tone and looked at her as Gretchen entered the room.
Will eyed her carefully. "Do you know something else, Camille?" he asked.
She laughed nervously. "Of course not, what would ever give you that idea?"
"Camille…"
"Will honestly, I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, shrinking back as he stepped towards her.
"For God's sake William, don't threaten the woman," Jack said, entering from the backyard with Sheila, Priscilla and Cadence.
Camille smiled as she saw crumbs all over Cadence's mouth and dress. "How was the tea, Captain?" she asked.
"Oh, it was quite lovely thank you," he said, putting Cadence down. "A bit on the sweet side, though. But I think Sheila-"
"Jack, this is kind of important-" Will said, turning back to Camille.
"Excuse me," Jack chided, not letting Will get another word in. "I believe that I was having a conversation," he said, taking Camille from the kitchen and leading her away from the suspicious glares. "-Sheila's cooking has much improved since I saw her last," he continued until they were in another room.
He looked at her. "You have a unique way of not drawing suspicions, my love."
"Jack, I'm sorry, I am trying my best," she quickly apologized. "You know it's not easy for me to lie about things like this."
"Yes I know, and that is to be your downfall if ever you wish to be a successful pirate such as yours truly."
"Jack, I didn't mean to," she said, sounding very distressed. These past few days had been very hard on her.
He winked. "Well, they're onto us now. We may just have to knock 'em over the head and flee."
"Whatever you think is best Captain," she replied tiredly, ignoring his joke. "You really wish to go to Colombia?"
He looked at her very serious. "First of all, yes, because that is what I do best. Secondly, and this must be most obvious to you, I am about to go mad in this house," he said with his teeth together on the last word.
She nodded. "I can understand that well enough. I miss the sea, too. But the timing's horrible. I was thinking about wearing corsets again."
Jack looked at her oddly. She had been so stressed out that he didn't know whether she was serious about this or not. But she winked at him and gave him a playful nudge, and he grinned. "There's the old Camille we all know and love," he said. "I can keep dear William's questions at bay, but this is going to be a bit harder now."
"Thank you, Jack."
"Anything for you, love," he said as they slipped back into the dining room.