A/N: Thank you again, for the support you have given me! It means the world! :-)
Additional note: Chapters from 9+ are uploaded in a faster pace. (I updated chapter 12 yesterday in case it is by mistake skipped.)
Married
Sometimes When We Touch
CHAPTER XIII
Sure enough, it was indeed a sleepless night.
But for Jack, it was completely a total night of no sleep at all.
When he had left her on the mattress of their bed, seeing her fall asleep at once with a content sigh, he had for a short moment haltered his actions. Paused and let his thoughts enter his mind with the grandest questioning statements. He had worn her out for all she had. Quite cocky to state. But what bothers him grows way deeper than that.
It would lead him back downstairs, with a ripped shirt and torn belt trying to keep his pants together. His tie hung open across his neck and his general appearance must have looked as if he came straight out of war.
And maybe, this was the start of a new war.
Dawn and the new morning hours embark of another day that begins. Still, he sits in that supernumerary armchair in the corner of the library room. A sparkling fireplace by his side keeps him warm, as his pulse has begun to shrink from before. Usually during mornings, he woke up with the grandest frustration within him. To lay beside her and feel this inner fire burn for her. And now, he had at least stilled it partly. This immensely stupid longing, the urge, but for now he truly felt inner peace.
To some sort of level.
Again, he raises his bottle of rum and takes a swig.
He begins to head into that dangerous territory again and he knows it. Deep down in there, she is pulling in him and he cannot let her.
He must bring this to a stop. And the sooner the better. Before things get too complicated. Which they already start to be.
Play house.
Lord, he hates that sentence.
But it is precisely what is quite happening.
And he cannot let that occur.
Not for any longer.
He must do something.
He takes another swig and peers at the big window, the view outside which reveals a snowy morning. A white softness that cover rooftops and any branch a tree carries. Sort of idyllic, but the burning sun further away only reminds him of the golden Caribbean one.
He needs to return, to go back. To where he belongs.
Which makes it quite clear to him, to understand, what he must do. Angelica will hate it, and hate him for that matter of it. But if one of them has to make things right, for once it shall be him. If she finds it impossible to finish what they came for, then it is up to him.
And aye, she may call him a pig for it. Throw things and find any curse in Spanish as she possibly has in her vocabulary. But it simply needs to get done.
After a quick freshen-up, he is ready in the dining room. Sitting across Hans that pours himself a freshly squeezed orange juice, buttering some croissants and seems not too bothered that Jack himself has no hunger for anything but his beloved bottle.
He eyes Jack nosily. There is simply only one thing he cares for, and that is how well Jack pushes the Rothley-matter. According to Jack himself, he does a bloody good damn job doing so.
"May I ask of how Montgomery's celebration was?"
Jack's grin could be apparent, but instead he feels no true glory anymore in the events of what happened. They never should have happened. He should have had better self control of himself and not given in for his needs. No matter how much it pained him, but he should have. Easy to be wise when looking back though. But as to how he begins to near the frame towards Rothley, it is slightly a success after all. So he replies sincerely. "Wonderful, aye."
"A long night, I dare to assume due your late arrival," Hans continues in between bites of a French croissant.
Agreeing, Jack nods and decides to after all dive into his own food laid on a plate in front of him. Putting on overly much marmalade on whatever piece of bread or cake he can lay his hands on. Again the memories of her deeply kissing him forms in his mind and he can feel his inner tremble again. "Indeed."
"And what about Angelica?"
Nodding assuringly, Jack still tries to keep his focus elsewhere but about on her. "She be doin' good, aye."
Hans stops actions and keeps his piece of the French croissant in his mouth while holding his gaze musingly on Jack. As if he tries to figure him out. When he eventually swallows, the sound is audible. "What are you not telling me?"
"Rothley," Jack shakes his head, clearly doing his best to somewhat shift topic. "Has spoken about these islands. I did drop the idea of buying and selling. Writing over them to someone else."
"Someone like you," Hans points out and nods. "Very well, Sparrow."
And here it comes. Jack clears his throat and sets the bottle of rum down. The thing he will suggest which will make Angelica absolutely hate him down into her bones.
He will however do it. And so on, decides to open his mouth with this proposal, which in turn only will make Hans very pleased with them both.
It is already past noon. Breaking habits of completely running her over, he truly wants to warn her this time. As much of a gentleman as he can be. So he decides to go and look for her but must not go far before he stumbles on her in the entrance room. Immediately he silently sits down in a nearby armchair with a glass of rum in his hand.
The view of her.
For a person urging for a rush, a kick of adrenaline wash through his body and made a good old shake, an earthquake, he does come to wonder how this, her, can bring him to such warmth. Such inner peace he never knows exists once he does not have her around.
And how come a person like her, the most hot-tempered woman on this side of the Atlantic sea, does find him attractive? He has definitely snatched the woman easiest to tease and risk of getting beheaded by. Maybe that is why he grows delighted by such a ride. Never knowing whether he is betting on his life or death, itself.
It is like the saying.
The greater the risk, the greater the reward.
It is such an unusual sight. Quite common for the past time, yet unusual still for Jack's eye. How the woman tenderly holds Franny-girl while trying to teach her words of what different things are that they find in this entrance room. A stair, a bypassing servant, a mirror, a flower. The girl tries to mimic it but mainly just points and smiles at anything Angelica tries to teach her.
By Angelica's tender movements, it is apparent of her soreness from yesterday. And again, Jack quite wears a smirk. Not in that bastard-silly way, but because he had given her a bloody good night. Her legs are just weak from the events from their nightly activities. But it means while he claimed her, or however he can express that, he certainly did cause a trace that will linger just a little.
It is almost as if he reconsiders the idea of dropping her the bomb. Nevertheless, it is important he addresses her of the matter and informs her.
So he does.
"Love?"
And as if she for a lifetime has replied to that, she throws a look over her shoulder, bringing her heavy curls to bounce before she looks back to him and warmly sinks down in his lap to hug his side. At once he understands it is a battle him within that he needs to take. She does not make anything easy for him. And while Franny-girl tries to reach for Jack's hair happily, Angelica lets the girl play with him.
"Sí?"
She steals his glass of rum and Jack's mouth twitches from grinning at her gesture. Instead he forces his vision away.
"I know, that perhaps… ye won't fancy this idea, precisely," he begins.
For a first, she is not too invested in his serious tone at all. Instead she has her eyes following Frances any action in case the girl may decide to slide down Jack's lap she shared with Angelica. But for once it is Jack holding the tiny girl back in place, from falling.
"But ye know just as much as I do, what we be 'ere for, aye?"
Now she pushes herself a bit up to look at him. She knows exactly what the topic is about, knowing him too well.
"Frances?" she demands. "This is about her, isn't it?"
"Aye," he is firm. "She be not ours, darlin'."
Her eyes could have been peering angrily at him, or a glare in fear. But it more appears as if she is hurt. Immensely hurt.
Ignoring her deep eyes, he must go on.
"Thus, I'll accept her hand in marriage for Baron Rothley's son, savvy?"
"No!" And she quite snatches Frances from Jack to bring her up with her.
Maybe by standing up and leaving, she deeply believed it meant Jack giving up on the idea. And perhaps better - letting it all to her.
And he cannot understand her farther from what he does. He cannot, at all, understand her. Not even the slightest. She dances around fire, that is what she does. They are after all there for a purpose, even if they may be slipping at points, ending up in situations where they enjoy the scenario more than they should.
But they can never get too invested in this.
She should know that too.
But it appears she fails to do so. Highly.
Because when the messenger has left off with Jack's decision, he is back with the Rothleys. One might have imagined this particular afternoon to go smooth. Specifically as Angelica spent it with Frances.
But oh my was that idea wrong. Because it all started with Frances.
And it all would end with Frances.
Her big cute eyes eying Angelica as if she has no other thing in the world to examine. Her smile is genuine and she wobbly walks with her nursemaid on her way to a crouching Angelica. Her arms are out and she hugs the child close when she approaches her.
"Mi hija," she proudly beams as she lifts her laughing daughter up in the air. "You're too good, aren't you?" And she snuggles closer. "You're too good…"
When she lowers the girl back to the ground, the girl barely wants to leave her embrace. She clings onto Angelica but carefully sets her feet down, skeptical of standing on the floor. Her tiny hands tightly and steadily hold onto Angelica for dear life.
The bond of trust is immense and even the nursemaid who for a close look can watch the two of them would probably never understand the two were not related by blood at all.
By the look of it, nobody can detect a thing. And as Jack can tell, so cannot even Angelica herself, it appears.
Because she is down on the wooden floor in her fine dress, not caring a thought of if it might get dirty. Focus is on nothing but teaching Frances to walk. And the girl laughingly walks around with a gripping hold around Angelica's hand. The girl tries to take a step on her own but falls to her bum. She crawls over, to the nursemaid who tries to get her up.
So that is probably where it starts next.
The determination of a little girl.
Turning the imposter Teagues' world upside down.
Because when she spins around, ready to stroll back to her mother. She does so by herself, with the firmest frown and clenched fists, outstretched arms to keep her wobbly balance somewhat stable as she decisively hits Angelica's embrace.
"Dios," and Angelica kisses the girl all over her face.
"Oh, dear!" The nursemaid exclaims and joins them to let Frances hug her finger. "Did she just do that, Lady Teague?"
"That's my girl, cariña," and the pride cannot go unnoticed by any witness there is. Lovingly she brushes any silky strands of hair away from Frances' face. "My girl," and she kisses her cheek. "She can walk."
For a beautiful bubble, it gets popped by the sudden opening of the front door. A servant at first entering to quickly announce.
"Lady Teague, the Rothleys."
Of course, it brings her to an astonishment. Not too harsh on her though, as it seems as if they develop that sort of relationship between each other. If they come by to say hello, uninvited, she will not really raise her eyebrow for.
But it is probably when she sees Jack entering the room, passing her by and wearing that specific look, that she knows.
"Jack!" Rothley greets.
Her vision, filled with nothing but irritation, is something Jack can see in the corner of his eyes. However he refuses acknowledging it and therefore just warmly welcomes the Rothley family. A cheerful baron, an eager baroness and a confused son. With her numbness, a forced smile, Jack is sure Angelica barely understands the situation in her outer world as she seems to push it back in her subconscious state. He must physically guide her into the dining room where a servant rushes to serve champagne and another one to fetch for fancy cut food.
Baroness Anna Rothley is absolutely beaming and laughingly speaks with Angelica, words he himself barely reckons. Baron Rothley himself is too busy overloading Jack with different ideas, how their children together would own too much property and with their offspring have true wealthy generations to come. In between, she manages a discreet disappointed eye at him. His response is nothing but a questioning look. This is what they are here for?
The sight of his Pearl only grows stronger for any day passed. Specifically now once he begins to grow on this baron. He is his key to regain his Pearl, and he has never failed the Pearl. The apple of his eye. The Black Pearl.
So this will certainly not be his first time doing so.
Angelica's utter nonsense of playing house cannot disturb him. And yet in another way, he cannot get a grip if it is simply her terrific ways of acting that even outsource himself. She is good, she is manipulative and does carry certain attributes he himself can only dream of having. Thus he shall not underestimate her either. Her words tend to say one thing, but her actions definitely speaks otherwise. Perhaps that is why he often is left confused with her.
Maybe that is part of why he... is somewhat fond of the idea of having her around.
She definitely is a challenge.
"Think of becoming relatives," Baron Rothley announces with a raised glass. Jack shares his grin of victory. "Never thought so at the first idea upon the information of your arrival - then we once, our children, our coming generation, shall rule major parts of the Caribbean."
"Won't they," Jack agrees.
"Frances Rothley," Anna speaks as if she tastes the name. "Baroness Frances Rothley. It sounds absolutely divine, does it not?"
By now, Angelica knows as much as Jack does, that she must speak even if she does not want to. "It sounds good."
Jack shoots her a warning eye. "It sounds fantastic."
"It does," Rothley too agrees.
And while being masters at smiling, Jack tries his best into cheering best ways he can, together with the Rothleys. Their grins are overly wide and they carry such a cheerful mood. Whenever the attention turns to Angelica, she would also play overly happy over the event. And whenever the attentions travelled elsewhere, she would discreetly and silently shoot Jack a warning eye.
He must admit he barely wants the Rothleys to leave. Because it means only one thing, and therefore he tries to keep them there as long as possible. But eventually they have had enough, and instead suggests to have yet another celebration in the future.
An engagement party.
Now is that not absurd?
For a couple of toddlers!
When doors are closed, servants heading to clean up and supper served in the closed dining room - Hans also attends. Mostly to make up another plan, sum up the eventful day and praise Jack for taking action.
When Angelica does not raise her glass to join Jack and Hans, the bony man finally understands that there certainly is something going on.
"Miss?" he questions. "You are not raising your glass." As if she does not know so herself?
Instead she shoots Jack a threatening glare.
"I don't approve of this."
If Jack had been drinking, then he would have coughed on it. However now he just begins to panic. His eyes immediately shoot to Hans as if to see his reaction. She cannot speak like this. Not in front of Hans. She should not even speak like this in privacy with Jack, thus definitely not in the audience of Hans.
"No, but we did what we be supposed to," Jack tries to save the situation. "Right, love?"
"Don't ever do that again, Sparrow," she warns.
Now, also Jack begins to forget that Hans is there to witness them both.
"Do what?" he retorts. "What I be supposed to? I do what I must, 'Gelica and it's time you do so too."
Growing serious as well, she stands. "You are just like you've always been. Manipulative demonio doing all he can to get me in bed, and it's all just an useless act in the end. Just like right now."
A part of her sentence still hangs on and now Jack has to scoff. "Me doin' all I can to get ye in bed, love?" She quite actually amuses him now, for real. "Let me remind ye, darlin' of who begged whom."
If fire smoke could fume from her, it would. And he comprehends this will be a battle where they may throw each other under the belt, and yet he finds it impossible, inevitable, to prevent.
"Armando would never do this to me."
"Probably because he doesn't know how to handle ye."
"Excuse me?!" she grabs a nearby glass and throws it towards him but misses due his quick dodge. "You bastard."
"Ye heard me," he begins to smirk at her. If she wants to try to compare him to Armando, she better do it correctly.
She is fuming but learns how to calm her nerves down. "As I said, Sparrow. He'd never as much as touch my hair, for a gentleman he is."
"Ah," Jack chuckles and does not even care of how Hans' glass now will slip right through his hands in shock. "And that's why he never had ye eight times last night," and now he has her firing for life at him. "Or nine," he corrects. "Counting the time against the tree in the garden."
"If you so dare..!" she holds back and is about to explode. "You useless desgracio," and she begins to throw any sort of cutlery she finds along the table while approaching him. A few plates crash into the floor in the meantime. He doges most of it and is out of his chair while backing from her raging. "I hate you!"
Hans' attention is completely on the arguing couple. So they has at last, taken that final step of intimacy after all? He watches the duo, of how the woman angrily curses in Spanish while trying to knock out the budging pirate-man, that for all he cares tries to not only tick her off further, but also at the same odd time - to calm her down.
Perhaps only Jack does that.
His smirking grin is taunting while he at the same time reaches for her wrists as if to relax her. But she only winces out of his grip, warns him something a final time before divalike storming out of the dining room.
But it is all Hans needs to witness to understand. To decide that he must do something but to keep them focused on their shared goal. He needs to keep them reminded, all the time. A grand focus. Specifically now when they are getting close.
He knows what he must do to Angelica, to be manipulative. Nevertheless, he starts with Jack, who is left in the room, still looking into the direction of where Angelica left.
"Mr Sparrow," Hans opens up again, wearing a deep frown as he sits back down again. "We are not far now. Which means that I believe it is an excellent idea to develop that relationship with the nursemaid."
Jack frowns, quite still with Angelica in his mind. They had after all spoken about this before but it was quite some time ago.
"We handpicked her for a reason," Hans continues. "Furthermore, if Lady Teague cannot come to her senses of refocusing and understanding why she is here, then it will be your duty to do so." His words are very decisive, firm and ruthless. He leaves absolutely no room for any objection. "You play her husband. Put her in place and show her."
Jack opens his mouth, yet in a tryout of objecting when Hans raises his finger as if to silence him. He does not even look at Jack but instead takes another bite from his supper plate.
"The Black Pearl waits for you, Jack. Will you truly let a woman come in the way for it? Even her?"
For that, Jack takes a deep breath. No he would not. And Hans knows that.
A/N: Quite a quick update here. Hope you did not miss last chapter. :-) What did you think of this one? Boy Hans are getting hard on them, right? :)))