Elizabeth rubbed a rum-soaked cloth gently over Will's shoulders. Three or four days of care had taken away the bright red backdrop and left the cuts thin and neat against his pale skin. He could do with a suntan, she thought, but elected not to mention it because she knew it would embarrass him. It had been hard enough to get him to strip off his shirt for her, and he was still clearly uncomfortable. "It's healing nicely," she assured him. She wondered if teasing would put him a little more at ease. "You might scar a little…but don't worry. I like men with scars."
Will looked away. Men with scars. Like Jack. His resolution never to mention the kiss he had witnessed almost gave way, but at the last moment he restrained himself. "Yes, I know," was all he said, hurrying to dress again as soon as she was done.
She heard the strain in his voice. "What's wrong?"
"I…" he searched for something to tell her. "My father gave me these cuts," he said at last.
"Your father?" Elizabeth echoed. "But you told me they were-"
"They were." He interrupted her and told her the whole story, his voice shaking with emotion. He ended with, "And he told me I'm to understand it as an act of compassion! Compassion, indeed." Totally absorbed by what he was saying, Will had forgotten all about his jealousy over Elizabeth and Jack.
Elizabeth frowned in polite puzzlement. "But what else could it be, besides compassion?"
"What else?" Will's turn to frown. "I don't know, but if he thought I would appreciate a beating at my own father's hands, he was sorely mistaken. Can you imagine? As if I-"
"I think you're being a little unfair." Elizabeth withdrew her hand from his. "Do you imagine he did it for fun? No, he did it because it was best for you, even though it must have been terribly hard for him. I've seen sailors after a proper lashing, Will, and I can tell you that thanks to your father's sacrifice you look ten thousand times better than they do." She bit her lip. "He did what had to to help you, and I respect him for it. In his place I'd have done the same. And I certainly hope you would for me as well."
Will was horrified. "For you? You mean whip you?"
"I mean anything!" Elizabeth's voice rose. "Your father would have done anything for you! So would I! Can you say the same? Had you been in Bootstrap's place and I in yours, would you have done what's best for me? Or would you have sent me off to the bosun to be butchered?"
"Elizabeth…" He loved her too much to lie to her. "I'd sooner die than hurt you."
She leaped to her feet. "Will Turner, I am so angry I can hardly speak to you," she seethed. (But that did not seem to be wholly true, since she managed to continue to lecture him.) "I broke with Commodore Norrington and ran off on a pirate ship expressly to leave this sort of nonsense behind! I cannot believe you have brought it with you!"
"I thought you left Norrington because you loved me," Will whispered, sounding like a small child whose Mama and Papa forgot his birthday.
She was in no mood to coddle him. "Yes and I loved you because I thought you were a fine man, a good man, strong and free and adventurous as I am! Instead, I find that…that… what's next, Will? A wig?"
Will scrambled to his feet, but all he could think to answer was, "I will never wear a wig!"
After a beat of silence, Elizabeth raised her chin proudly and stared him straight in the eye. "And you'll never wear a wedding ring, either, until you prove yourself strong enough to deserve it. I will not marry a child."
"Elizabeth…"
"Don't Elizabeth me," she snapped. "I know you don't want to harm someone you care about, but God gave you a heart and a brain, and you have to use both. No matter how it hurts." Only then did she know what she was really talking about, and the memory of Jack washed over her so hard she thought she could taste him. Realizing that she was about to break down and tell Will everything - and that he would never understand - she stormed off, forbidding herself to cry.
TBC.