Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. The long title is a poem by W. B. Yeats.
Chapter 14: He Thinks of Those Who Have Spoken Evil of His Beloved
He pounded on Gabriel's door. "Mr. Thatcher, I would like to have a word with you!"
Gabriel opened his door and saw three men staring at him accusingly. "What is it, what's wrong?"
"Have you ever hurt Camille?" Jack asked. Will looked like he wanted to say something, but he held back.
Gabriel narrowed his eyes at Jack. "What are you talking about, of course not! I would never hurt her!" he said defensively.
Jack sighed heavily. "I should have never captured her, I knew it was folly to let her alone in the Fuego," he began berating himself.
"Wait, is she injured?" Gabriel asked.
Will nodded. "The doctor just left. He said that she has two broken ribs that have previously been broken and not healed correctly."
Gabriel's eyes widened. "Father," he said suddenly, remembering the time Maximilian had beaten the both of them. "Oh God, is she all right?"
"Why did you say 'father'?" Will asked, looking nervously at Jack.
Gabriel swallowed, taking a deep breath. "There was…there was this one time when my father beat her-"
"You bastard!" Jack roared, rushing towards Gabriel with his sword out. Will and James held him back as Gabriel tried to loosen himself from Jack's grip, kicking him away as he fell to the ground. "You let him hit her!"
"There was nothing I could do!" he protested, finally getting his hand on a pistol and cocking it.
Jack didn't flinch. "That pistol doesn't scare me, boy. If you shoot at me, you'll just ignite the flame ever further," he threatened. Will and James were still holding him.
"Are you going to listen to me?" Gabriel asked, still pointing the pistol at Jack. "I couldn't stop him. I tried, but he was much stronger than I."
"What's going on, what is this?" Gretchen appeared in the doorway in her nightgown, and Ana Maria was right behind her. Priscilla was also peering in.
"YOU!" Jack shouted, turning around and pointing at Gretchen. His sword was still out in his other hand. "Your father hit Camille!" he said, and again he needed James and Will to hold him back.
Gretchen screamed as he started towards her and backed up against the wall.
"What?" Ana Maria asked, looking from her to Gabriel. "He hit Camille?" she demanded, looking at Jack for reassurance. He nodded ferociously.
"No!" Gretchen exclaimed. "No, my father was a good man!" she yelled. "He would never do such a thing, you filthy pirate!"
"He hit her, Gretchen!" Gabriel yelled, putting the pistol away. "You saw him take her out back to whip her, you can't deny that."
"He did not!" Gretchen shrieked, tears streaming down her face.
"You watched him whip her!" Jack bellowed to the two of them. "You watched, and you did NOTHING!"
"Jack, get ahold of yourself!" Will cried, trying his best with James to constrain the frenzied captain. "There was nothing they could do, he already explained that!"
"Stop it!" Gretchen cried. "Don't talk about my father that way!"
Priscilla was still hiding just behind the doorway, and when Jack noticed he relaxed his muscles. James and Will hesitantly let him go as he stormed out of the room and down the opposite wing of the house.
He knocked gently on the door and pushed it open. Camille was sitting up in bed with pillows surrounding her, and an open book on her lap. "My God Jack, what was all that yelling about?" she asked. She looked perkier than she had been, and some color was returned to her face.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Jack asked, moving to the bed. He moved the book and sat down, taking her hands in his. "Maximilian hit you."
She breathed in sharply. "I never wanted to talk about that with you or anyone," she said quietly. "How did you find out?"
"Gabriel," he said hotly.
"Jack, do not be hostile towards the Thatchers. They were all scared to death of him, and now he is dead. He was a truly dreadful man."
"Camille, he hit you. No man should ever hit a woman."
"Jack, Gabriel tried to stop him. Maximilian threw him so hard that he lost consciousness. He is such a sweet man, he would never let anyone lay a finger on me."
He leaned over and kissed her. "I certainly hope so. You need your rest, darling. I promise I will discontinue my ranting until you are feeling better."
She sighed, wincing a little at the pain. "Thank you, Jack. Good night."
"G'night, love."
Annie was doing her duties the next week, and was a bit surprised to hear a lot of noise coming from Camille's room. At first she blushed an unusually deep shade of red, being embarrassed at Camille and Jack for being intimate at such an hour. Then she recognized her own dear Sheila's voice.
Making her way upstairs, she found Priscilla, Cadence and Sheila all sitting on Camille's bed, talking animatedly with one another.
"Children!" Annie barked, causing them all to shut up immediately. "Miss Camille needs her rest!"
"Oh no, Annie, they're fine," Camille insisted. "They can stay as long as they like."
Annie kept her hands on her hips, and the three young ladies reluctantly got off the bed and filed out of the room in a straight line, with Cadence stumbling in the rear.
"Annie, that's really not necessary."
"I came at the captain's request," said Annie obligingly.
Camille sighed and laid back against her pillows. "He's been treating me as if I were a porcelain doll for the past week. The last thing I need is for you to start as well. You know just as much as I do that women are resilient."
At this comment, Annie couldn't help but grin. "Don't you go and let that slip to the men, ya hear me?"
Camille nodded. "I wouldn't dream of it," she said as she pushed the covers aside and got to her feet. Annie's eyes widened, but Camille stood on her tiptoes and stretched. "Oh, it feels so good to stand!" she exulted.
"Are ya still sore?"