NEW CHAPTER
A/N: Thank you again for the support. Happy to see that you still read this story. :-)
Chapter XVIII
Win the Race
MARRIED
It was expected from start that one of them would aim to behead the other one.
As for this - things probably could not have gone any better on the ride to Monty Montgomery's estate. Since the men never killed each other or even made an attempt of it, Mister Hans would call it a success story. Although probably much thanks to a servant Hans forced joining them. He was of course very innocent and unaware of the idea that these two men were not cousins at all. And absolutely not on terms.
The servant's belief was only of accompanying as his job to serve Lord Teague and the cousin, Mr Teague. Nothing beyond that.
Even before letting them jump inside the carriage, Mister Hans had been firm to stop them and discreetly unarm them from pistols. A sword would in usual cases me a must, but he could not take any chances tonight. Armando could be a possible mistake, but not just yet. Not for Hans. He needs Armando.
The two men do sit far and across each other, a watchful gaze that refuses to leave the opponent. Bringing Salazar along is absolutely not Jack's desire. Quite the opposite. However it eats the idea of having him back home, with Angelica. The images of leaving the house with them there alone without him are not pretty at all.
And thus, he chose best of two horrible images. Taking one for the team, he rather chose to have this idiot around. At least that way Jack can be the one in control, and can therefore know precisely what this moron does any moment of any second. He will not let this pathetic yokel get any chance of being around her. Not any.
And this gives Jack the upper hand.
Something he needs when Angelica seems to be playing against him.
For whatever reason.
He still cannot believe that she seems to be attracted by this... this... bloody broken rooster.
"Lord Teague!" And soon this warm greeting on every person's lips will follow with a curious question. "And who is this?"
Any guest at Monty's estate will be a person Jack already has met, and already has made an impression at.
For a beginning, he struggles with not pointing out something to undermine Armando and his so-called cousin would do the same. His remarks would be vicious yet with a sarcastic sting to it as if to hide the bitterness between the lines. For a result, most men would seem to buy this as a typical relative-battle.
Who would be the best, the favorable, coming from the very same family?
And this little competition, even in filthy and pointy words, would slip by most as nothing but normality.
To act like a piggy gentleman also for that matter appears to fit Armando Salazar even better than Jack. For once, Jack cannot face the idea of having too much rum as it means a risk of handing the upper hand to Salazar. He can never not be in control of any situation whenever this Spaniard is around. Until he has gotten rid of him, this is how he will have to behave. Quite sober. Or at least, very aware of the golden rum he so does choose to sink.
Salazar is a former privateer. He has worked for the Spanish crown. He knows how to behave, but equally well, he knows just about what these parties are like, and he blends in like the tightest glove fit on a hand. Jack can admit he is impressed, although he never would mean it as a compliment.
Because Salazar did not blend it by an act, but by how he truly is. Although Salazar's quirked eyebrows, eying Jack from time to time, did tell Jack that this Salazar-boy in fact must have been impressed by Jack. Well, who WOULD have believed Jack ever could put up with something like this?
Not even himself.
This all goes quite well. Jack getting into fun conversations with his chosen ones: Rothley, Monty and the rest; when Monty, stupid idiotic Monty, has the nerve of pointing out…
"Ah, so you're Jack's cousin?" and he is somewhat drunk when he asks this. "If I've understood correctly."
Salazar chuckles, but his bitter tone never goes noticed. "So it seems," and he quite mutters the rest only for Jack to hear. "Getting Angelica."
It was such an unnecessary comment, just to provoke Jack. However it works as he jerks by it. It was all a mistake, because Monty and Rothley would actually hear it.
Rothley pauses a woman from feeding him caviar on a cracker alongside shots.
"And you're from the Caribbean."
Salazar seems to not understand where it is going and neither does Jack.
"And now as a guest, you are living with Lord Teague at his lovely house," Monty continues. "And also with his wife."
Rothley throws a shot towards Monty, having it spilled all over his face. "Monty!" he warns.
"Alright," Monty surrenders and has his hands up in the air. "Forgive me, Lord Teague," he apologies to Jack. "I just cannot seem to understand..."
"I'm sorry?" Armando questions.
"Obviously you're trying to get our friend's wife."
Now Jack almost spits the water he has in his mouth. What the actual..? How?
Monty gestures to Salazar's naked hand. "Forgive me Mr Armando Teague for pointing it out, but you wear no ring to reveal any marriage. And let's be honest here, would we? If you come from the same family as Jack, many women should have thrown themselves over you. You'd pick any, have hundreds of them. But you have chosen not to attach."
Even Salazar must be speechless by Monty's quick analysis by now.
Everybody remains quiet as Monty goes on. "Unless you stay unmarried, for a reason. For a someone."
Maybe Mister Hans has underestimated this Monty Montgomery. He may be a pig, wealthy and quite undermined compared to the authentic Baron Rothley. But during an event like this, he very much brings out the colors of who he is and what a questionable thinking he has. Maybe slightly more intelligent than Jack firstly had hoped for.
It may bring others to pure silence, but Jack is quite at least fulfilled by hearing this. Monty, who would have known he can be this genuine of a friend?
Well, this is all for Salazar to answer. For a beginning, he clears his throat. "Oh, a woman like her would never marry a man like me. Only the best, which is a man of nobility, related closer to the crown. At this particular life, it appears as if... a Mr Teague could not be that one fortunate man."
The double meaning of it according to Salazar being the other way around goes though passed by anyone but Jack. A heavy crystal glass with golden rum is in his hand. Lazily he moves it around, as if attention is on how the liquid moves around the walls of it. In between he dares sipping on it, savoring the taste but never lets it get the best out of him. And that is in other words how his evening is spent. Mostly on his toes, ready for an ambush from Salazar.
This is on the other hand something he never experiences. Not until most men has disappeared, that is to say. Some to retreat home to their angry wives, some who had lost too much in gambling and preferred not going home, some simply gone in state and in general - the estate grew empty.
One thing Jack has noticed of this Salazar is how he too, avoided alcohol throughout the night. Which only meant one thing. That he is equally alerted as Jack. Or not just as much, he can never hand him that credit. Nobody ever gets well enough as Jack. But for one, Jack never needs preparation. He goes by his improvisation.
It grew rather quickly. One point of - "She awaits me at home."
Which is probably when he in a scenario is not prepared at all, yet in a swinging move has improvised himself into smoothly grabbing ahold of a nearby sword actually hanging in a golden pride onto a wall. Fancily it had hung along a decorated frame as if to showcase what important person has carried it. Probably some old sword Monty's grandfather of some sorts has used in a battle. And now Jack holds this with its tip pointing to Salazar. He, in turn has another one facing Jack. How he got one, Jack never finds out.
Now they would embark in a battle, Salazar aimlessly fighting off Jack, and him mostly pretending himself. When he goes upstairs and Salazar clumsily jumps after, Jack uses the movement to kick him back down.
For a noise, many men have joined to cheer. Most of them believing it is nothing but a pure playful fight between two cousins. Both of them fighting the other in a contest of being the alpha.
Oh bloody no, they cannot be further wrong.
Yet as champagne bottles pop, men throw bets, Salazar manages throwing words at Jack that nobody else hears.
"You cannot win this, Sparrow."
"Try me, eh?" And Jack holds his arms out as if making things easier for Salazar. When he misses, Jack flamboyantly has dodged the comeback. Even Rothley has by now appeared, deeply impressed by Jack's tactics.
"I had no idea you could fight, what a master!" the baron brags.
Yet in the moment Salazar has to give up, officially surrender and in turn, humiliate himself, Jack can see in his eye that the man has not given up at all. There is this sparkle in them that reveals the hatred beneath.
He cannot even relax when the both of them must return their swords to call it a night, and so on head home.
Again they are facing each other in this carriage. The irony of the situation can still not be denied by Jack. How is it possible that he had ended up here? With the people he has around?
A year ago he never would have believed it.
Him dressed up as nobility. Living like a wealthy bastard yet with a gentle touch. A family man as a father of a daughter. Had he actually gotten a daughter?
And a wife.
Angelica.
He had Angelica not only back in his life, but as his wife. Married to him.
And he is not done yet. No. He has more. They have more.
They have a grand group of friends. Snobby, rich friends that appeared to be somewhat genuine in between throwing gold on others.
And then there is Salazar. His worst ever enemy. A man that hates Jack's guts more than anything. A man that wants Jack dead. Not there are many that in fact wants him alive?
Still…
And here he is? In a carriage in London, pompously dressed in disguise of this ridiculous lord, and Salazar, a tryout of his murderer, neatly sits in front of him. And they are on their way home, to Jack's so-called estate where his wife, Angelica (of all women out there?) is with their baby-girl (their BABY-girl?!). And Salazar, who apparently has swept Angelica off her feet, has returned to be allowed being there while slowly trying to kill Jack?
Is it not absurd?
It is so absurd.
Lord, Jack may as well write a book of his life when he is over with this.
Perhaps the idea of rum is not so bad after all.
The situation is just too unlikely. How on earth has he ended up here?
All it takes is Salazar's words for him to snap back.
For him to regain his attention on the now, on what happens right here and right now. And these ideas of sitting behind the wheel of his Pearl, happy from ambushing a vessel filled with treasures and writing this stupid book behind it - go blur.
He will never let Salazar win.
Not ever.
"How is it, Sparrow," the Spaniard tauntingly eyes Jack. "To have the woman you supposedly love."
"Strong word," Jack needs to intervene.
"Slip right through your fingers - into the arms of your enemy?"
By then Jack simply peers at him. But he stays silent. There is truly not much to say. He can urge the matter that he is wrong, like a three year old nagging.
For a wild guess, Salazar probably understand just as much as Jack does, that he certainly do lurks under his skin in a very uncomfortable way.
He can even understand the seriousness of what this Salazar probably suggests and may do.
Or he can simply understand that maybe, maybe, he can hate this idiot of man as much he wants. But also maybe, this man may speak some truthful words that Jack may not just like. Maybe.
And Salazar pushes, but now completely genuinely. Truthfully as if for a very first time, has no resentment to Jack, but an eye of pity.
"She's... ¿Como lo dices?... lovely? Lovely," and Jack's gaze softens for a brief moment before Salazar continues. "Too bad, actualmente... that you never realized it yourself."
Even if these words are sincere. He now understands.
It is so clear and that even not the dumbest idiot in the world could possibly miss what Salazar truly is after.
This man is not out to kill Jack at all. Not physically.
He has tried that before. And he has lost.
So he has chosen to go down another road. A road Jack would have harder to fight against. And one who probably would damage him more than actually physically get killed.
Salazar is out for the emotional part. The part which hurts the most.
The part which kills the most.
Angelica.
Just as he may have thought.
So the good part, if possible to see it that way - must be that he at least had confessed it. Now he knows.
Not that it is a good thing either. But at least he knows.
Problem is again Angelica. How she can come to terms of this and stop seeing only what she wants to see.
By the time they reach their home, Jack is lingering after Salazar. He may not raise a knife behind his back for now. But giving him the chance is something that simply cannot happen. So he waits for him to retreat to his bedroom before he finally decides to crash into his own.
In the stairs he halters as he almost runs into Hans. The man hiding in the shadows steps out as if being darkness itself.
"Mister Jack?"
"Aye?"
For a quick glance, Hans scans the space around them to make sure nobody hears.
"Why do refrain Miss Angelica and Mister Armando Salazar from interacting?"
Fancy words?
Interacting? Is there never anything more blunt in Hans vocabulary at all?
But Jack is blunt. Often too blunt for his own good. "Because as ye taught me, Mister Hans - she be me wife and I've learned to treat her as such."
"So Mr Armando..."
"He's trying to kill Angelica."
"Oh, for love of God!"
"Aye, mark my words."
"You're an overdramatizing retired pirate."
Retired pirate?! Oh that man had the nerve?!
A normal reaction might be to at least challenge Mister Hans. But this odd-sort-of-prison makes him unable to. So he just keeps glaring at Hans, and him right back. And it is Hans that at last decides to leave, but first with a statement.
"You ought to let Mr Salazar do the job I have him here for. He belongs to her in the real bubble, while you can enjoy her in the false one. He is here for you to remember that this false bubble will pop someday, and by then Governor Milton must own the island or you wish Salazar was the one killing you."
By now Jack just does not care and grabs a bottle of rum. Bloody Hans. He hates Hans.
When he finally kicks his door open, he finds surprisingly out that Angelica is still awake. By this hour of the night this sleepyhead tends to peacefully enjoy stealing most space of their bed. So why is she awake?
Her figure examines her reflection in a grand mirror. Upon Jack's arrival she swings around and moves towards the door.
"Oh, how good is that. You're home."
At first he thinks it is him she refers to. But as she heads for the door, he understands it never was. By pure instinct, he throws himself against the door, refusing her to leave.
Can it be true? Was Salazar right? After all?
Has he fully let her slip right through his fingers for long enough that he could not repair it?
Or had he not just been given enough time for it?
She told him back at the island that she loved it. Did she not anymore? Has she really let go of him?
Whatever goes on in his mind, he at least brings her to puzzlement. "¿Que haces?"
Alright, he never understood a bloody word in Spanish. But due his actions, he quite can translate what she wonders. Her searching eyes reveal the rest.
"¿Qué estás haciendo?"
And Jack does not know what to say. What to utter without coming out as a jealous and demanding former lover. How does a person do that?
How does he stop her from going to Salazar. To prevent her from danger?
How does a man tell a woman that when she clearly cannot see it herself?
He should be able to do that? Because he always, always could sell himself in, in any situation. But for once, he finds himself at loss of words.
He is absolutely speechless.
Intently he meets her searching eye.
"Don't go," he at last speaks.
Oh, come on? Did he really just say that? 'Don't go?' What is he twelve? Like a lovesick puppy pleading his ditching childhood sweetheart not to leave him.
Lord if he has this used against him ever.
For whatever it is worth, she is still calm. Her mouth opens as if she wants to tell him something. It is probably in the way she takes a deep breath, meets his eye firmly and nervously massages her hand with her other one.
"I just need to talk to him. I must. I've got no choice."
"What do ye mean ye've got no choice?"
And now it is as if she regrets her spoken words. She sighs and probably decides to go down the road of jealous ex instead. "You cannot hold me back, Jack."
"Why don't ye do that tomorrow?" he tries to postpone it for all he has. "Everyone be sleeping at this hour, aye?"
She still seems to consider to go and that is what brings him to utter such desperate words.
"And what if ye'd wake Frances."
Oh dear. He cannot believe he has gone deep enough to use Franny-girl against her.
But Angelica's love for Franny-girl does indeed come in handy. It works like a charm on Angelica and her eyes immediately soften as she buys this reasoning. Gently she backs away from him and lets go of her inhaled breath before heading to bed.
His mind is spinning of how to take on the following day. How to make her not get near Salazar, how to get Rothley to as quick as possible sign the papers and how to as fast as he can - get out of here.
But it is something in Angelica that brings him out of all of that. Her aura, again, as if she tries to tell him something. How she opens her mouth and meets his eye with such a genuine stare. However also again, she seems to reconsider. And instead she simply blows out the candlelight.
A/N: Alright! That was chapter 18! Until next time!