Disclaimer: Jack is not mine. POTC is not mine. Val and Kat are mine but there not very interesting without their POTC counterparts to play with.
AN: To those of you who have reviewed, THANKS! To those others….beware because I am sending you mean dark looks in an attempt to intimidate you into reviewing. Is it working?
This could not be happening. It was not possible that he should be here. It simply was not possible. The thoughts kept running round and round in her head. A wave of panic began to rise up inside but she firmly pushed it back down. If there was one thing she knew about Jonathon Sparrow it was that he would not hesitate to take advantage of any weakness that she might show. With a deliberate insouciance Val countered, "The years have treated me well Jonathon. And you? How have the years been to you? Last I heard you were on your way to the Americas. It would appear as if you had been sidetracked. Pity that. There'd been such lovely tales of your run ins with heathens and savages: some of them even ending in your demise."
Jack felt a combination of admiration and frustration at her ability to so quickly recoup her wits. Even as a mere chit of a girl, she had rarely been disconcerted by anything that he could say or do. However Jack doubted that she was as calm as she appeared for the smashed champagne glass bore witness that she had been just as surprised by their meeting as he. Seeking to discomfort her and repay her for her unkind words, Jack stepped closer and traced a finger down her cheek. "Sorry to disappoint luv but the reports of my death were greatly exaggerated. As you can see I am very much alive and breathing. More than can be said for your … well let's call him your second husband." Jack paused for a moment and pretended to consider, "What is the proper title for a man who married a woman who was still married to another man even though said woman may have hoped with all her heart that said first husband had actually expired? Now that said second husband has in fact predeceased the aforethought deceased first husband is it fair to even call said second husband a husband?"
Val barely managed to follow the question. He was using his old trick of twisting words to confuse her. Before she could construct an adequate reply and inquire how he knew of her widow status, Jack leaned closer and said in a deliberately non-threatening threatening tone, "Of course we both know that said wife could only be called one thing."
She refused to give him the satisfaction of inquiring what he meant. He would be unable to hold his tongue for long. He had always been that way when he had what he thought was the final say in any sort of encounter. All she had to do was remain silent and he would not be able to help himself.
Sure enough after a few moments of loaded silence he elaborated, "She could only be called a bigamist. Now I wonder what my good friends Governor Swann and Commodore Norrington would have to say about such a deliberate disregard for the laws of England. What do you think Valentine? Should we ask them for their opinion?"
It was as if the fifteen years had faded away and once again she snapped at him as she had always done, "Do not call me that. You know that I detest that name." Then focusing on the bigger issue she began to tell him just what she thought of his veiled threat, "I sincerely doubt that anyone would care much about…" but she was interrupted by a petulant voice.
"Jack Sparrow, why are you skulking about out here when we have guests? Papa is about to make the announcement." Millicent came to an abrupt halt when she noticed the woman partially hidden behind her fiancé's frame. Registering that the two were standing too close for propriety's sake, her eyes narrowed and she took stock of the woman in front of her. Her perusal did not help her temper. Millicent rather fancied herself as the belle of this particular ball and this woman was altogether too attractive for her comfort. Since Millicent was acquainted with everyone worth being acquainted with in Port Royal this meant that the woman could only be the newly arrived Widow Smith. With what was meant to be an arch little laugh Millicent asked, "Jack darling aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend?"
Jack looked uncomfortable as he performed the introductions. "Widow Smith this is Miss Millicent Witherspoon. Millicent, let me present the Widow Smith." Jack had long ago learned that the best way to successfully lie his way out of trouble was to impart as much truth as possible so he added, "The Widow Smith and I actually are old friends from many years ago."
Millicent rushed forward and with a grasp that was just a shade too tight clasped Val's hands and gushed, "Oh, so you are an old friend of Jack's. It is so lovely to have you here. Now you can tell me all of his little secrets. The man is just too mysterious for his own good. It is maddening to have a fiancé who refuses to tell you of his past. I just know that you shall become just like an older sister to me."
During Millicent's little speech four things became clear to Val. The first was that Jonathon had evidently decided to go by the nickname of Jack. The second was that this Jack, her Jonathon, was the same Jack whose engagement she was here to celebrate. The third was that Millicent Witherspoon was not likely to be a friend of hers anytime in the near future. The fourth and most important was that she needed to get out of here and find some peace and quiet in which to sort out the disaster that her life had suddenly turned into.
Several hours later found Val sitting in front of a fire and nursing a glass of brandy. The servants had thought her request for a fire on such a balmy night odd but they had diligently fulfilled her wish. Fruitlessly she tried to capture the warmth exuded by the flames but the cold that she felt was of a sort that could not be dealt with externally. She was still in shock over the evening's events. Who would ever have thought that she would run into Jonathon here in Port Royal? Certainly she hadn't or she would never have moved here. What damnably bad luck. She scowled as she recalled his veiled reference to bringing her up on charges of bigamy: as if he would dare when he had a fiancé of his own! That had been just like him to try to scare and bully her. The two of them had never gotten along. Since Jonathon Sparrow had been a member of the set that her brother Rupert regularly socialized with, they had often crossed paths. From the first moment that they met they had argued at every opportunity and made their mutual dislike known to one and all.
Taking another sip of the brandy, Val wryly amended that last thought. There had been one very notable occasion when their antipathy for each other had mutated into something else entirely. It had been years since she allowed herself to think of that night and she had no desire to reflect on it now but her thoughts were not so easily controlled.
That night had been pure folly from beginning to bitter end. Why had she allowed Annabelle to persuade her to accompany her to Gretna Green? Val let out a sigh as she remembered why. She had been more than half convinced that Annabelle's beloved Tristan would not actually keep their assignation and she had wanted to be there to console and accompany Annabelle on the sad journey home. Surprisingly Tristan had been there waiting and still eager to marry Annabelle despite both sets of parents' objections. Much to Val's dismay he had even brought along Jonathon to act as best man and witness. Val loathed Jonathon and she supposed the same could be said of his feelings for her. The two fell into verbal sparring whenever in each other's company for more than a few minutes. Unfortunately, Annabelle was Val's best friend and Tristan was Jonathon's best friend and so the two were forced to interact more than either was comfortable with.
While Annabelle and Tristan had taken a few minutes to speak with the parson and complete the necessary legal documentation, Jonathon and Val had waited outside in the vestibule. As usual Jonathon had passed the time making sarcastic comments.
"It appears as if your friend has truly bewitched poor Tristan. Can't imagine why he feels the need to place a ring on her finger. A few more moonlit walks and flowers sent and he'd get the same payoff with a far cheaper price. Truth be told I'd bet he's sampled the goods already."
Indignant at the slight to her friend's virtue Val shot back, "Not everyone has your warped view of life and matrimony Mr. Sparrow. Just because you are incapable of finer nobler feelings do not assume that others share in your deficiency."
"Finer feelings?" Jonathon hooted. "I sincerely doubt that nobility has anything to do with tonight's escapade. More likely it's the basest of urges and fear of a child out of wedlock."
"My, what a charmer you are. It's no wonder that women throw themselves at your feet. With such a pretty turn of phrase, how could they resist?" Val adopted a faux look of consideration, "When was the last serious romance you had? Hhhmmnnn… let's think. I've known you for three years and not once I have heard your name linked with a respectable woman."
"Ah but you have heard my name linked with women of a disreputable nature, haven't you?" Jonathon drawled roguishly. Then he added, "Besides I don't exactly see the men beating down your door with declarations of undying love and devotion." He was aware that the statement was patently untrue. Val had plenty of suitors. This year, her official first season on the marriage mart, had been a great success and he knew of at least three men who had requested her hand. All had come away empty handed and yet still singing her praises. Frankly he could not understand the appeal. He had seen her grow from a gangly fifteen year old into a more assured eighteen year old but she still maintained her hoydenish ways and viper's tongue. He supposed that she was attractive enough when she kept her mouth shut but that was a rarity.
"I have had plenty of suitors and offers. I just choose not get married. Marriage is a trap that stifles individuality." Val indignantly informed him.
With a chuckle Jonathon admitted, "Well you'll get no argument from me there. It would seem as if we have at last found something to agree upon."
Their arguments were ended by the return of Annabelle and Tristan and the beginnings of the ceremony. The nuptials were quick and perfunctory in nature but both bride and groom appeared overjoyed. After the deed had been done, Val was eager to leave but both she and Jonathon were pressed into staying and enjoying a celebratory wedding feast at the local inn.
The affair was uncomfortable with Annabelle and Tristan constantly gazing upon each other with adoration and neither appearing capable of refraining from intimate caresses. Val took refuge in champagne. She was not by nature much of a drinker but it seemed the best way to survive the ordeal so she freely imbibed. Jonathon joined her. By the time the happy couple was ready to retire for the evening both Val and Jonathon were more than a little foxed. When Tristan announced that it would be best if the two of them took the carriage home that the ladies had arrived in thus leaving the other carriage for him and Annabelle to make their way home in tomorrow, neither Jonathon nor Val had enough wits about them to argue the arrangement. Armed with a fresh bottle of champagne they climbed into the carriage and started towards home.
The first miles of the journey were conducted in silence. Each party was lost in their own thoughts. Val was vaguely discomforted to realize that she felt just the tiniest bit jealous of what her friend had found with Tristan. Jonathon was discovering a heretofore unknown wish that a woman would look at him like Annabelle had looked at Tristan.
The silence was broken with Jonathon demanding, "Are you planning on hogging all of the champagne? Or do you think that you could find your way clear to sharing?"
"There is no need to be rude. Of course you can have some." Val looked about helplessly for a glass. "Oh dear, we forgot to bring glasses."
Impatiently he said, "Then we'll just have to drink it from the bottle. Do not fear I have no diseases. Given your oh so virtuous nature, I've no doubt the same can be said of you. Hand me the bottle and I'll open it."
Val leaned forward to hand him the bottle. At the same moment the carriage hit a deep rut in the road and she ended up in an undignified sprawl on top of him. She tried to sit up only to find herself pulled back down. "Let me up you lecher. How dare you try to maul me?"
Jonathon hotly denied the charges. "I am not trying to maul you. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to have you off of my person. Unfortunately it appears as if your gown is entangled in my buttons."
Val glanced down and saw that in fact the lace trimming of her bodice had snagged on the buttons of his waistcoat. "Well this would not have happened if you had kept your jacket buttoned like a gentleman." Even as she made the argument, Val was aware that it made no sense. A button was a button and it did not matter if it belonged to a jacket or a waistcoat. But the new and unusual sensations that she was experiencing made it imperative that she place the fault at his feet. She tried to wiggle free and heard an ominous ripping sound. "Don't you dare ruin this lace. My aunt had it specially made for me in Venice." she ordered.
Val's wriggling was causing Jonathon to experience his own set of sensations. Not being innocent like Val, he had experienced them before but the unusual degree of response had him befuddled. Angrily he snapped, "Damn it Valentine, stay still. I'll try to work the lace free." Maneuvering in the small and dark carriage was not easy and the task was further complicated because every movement of his fingers brought him in contact with swell of her bosom. Gritting his teeth and trying in vain to ignore his body's response to the unintended caresses, he continued to attempt to free her and at the same time preserve the lace.
Trying to find anything to distract herself from the delicious tingles that were caused by the feel of his fingers brushing against her breast, Val pounced on his use of her full name, "I have told you time and time again not to call me by that ridiculous name. By rights you should refer to me as Miss Hollingsworth but if you insist on being improper call me Val."
Her tirade had caused her to take a deep breath and Jonathon almost groaned as one pert breast practically filled his hand. Deciding that he would gladly pay to replace a thousand yards of lace rather than endure any further torture he gave a vicious tug and there was the noise of lace separating from gown. Both looked down. Val saw a length of the precious lace clinging to Jonathon's waistcoat. He noted the scrap of lace but also observed that the once modest décolletage of her gown was now all too revealing.
Val looked up into his face and berated, "Damn you Sparrow. You did that on purpose. Just because you don't like me is no reason to…" The rest of her words were drowned out by the pressure of his lips on hers. At first shock prevented her from reacting but the next thing she knew her arms had somehow become entwined around his neck and she was kissing him back.
The kiss deepened and his tongue assuredly began to explore the moist recesses of her mouth. Val had never been kissed like this before and she found that contrary to her expectations she enjoyed it. When Annabelle had described the way that Tristan kissed her, Val had thought it sounded disgusting but now she knew differently. She began to tentatively meet his thrusts and as the kiss progressed she grew more confident and bold. Jonathon's arms gathered her up and cradled her on his lap. He twined one hand in her hair as he continued to ravish her mouth and used his other hand to trace a path down her throat to the newly lowered neckline of her dress. Confidently he began to stroke the upper swell of her breasts until he felt her shudder in response. Then through the silk his fingers began to tease and torment the tightly furled buds that her nipples had become. When she was writhing with need, he adjusted her on his lap so that she was leaning back into the crook of his arm. Then he carefully peeled the neckline of her gown down until one beautiful aching breast was revealed. With a sigh of pure contentment he bent over to take the tip into his mouth and began to lap at it like a cat with a saucer of cream. Soon the other breast was receiving the same treatment.
Val had lost all ability to think or speak coherently. The only thought that she was capable of entertaining was the thought that she never wanted this to end. She felt a draft of air as his hand slowly worked its way under her skirts and supposed that she should protest but could not find the will to do so. When his hand glided over her thigh and found the nesting place between her legs and gently stroked, she gave a small scream and almost bucked off of his lap.
Jonathon pulled back from kissing her to look at the woman draped wantonly across his lap. Her lips were swollen and her bosom bare from his explorations. She could not stay still as his fingers continued their wicked caresses between her thighs and she emitted the most delightful little whimpers of need. Never before had he wanted a woman as much as he wanted this one and somehow he was certain that once would not be enough. Hell it was unlikely that a lifetime would be enough. Of their own violation his lips formed the words, "Marry me."
Startled Val looked into his chocolate brown eyes. Funny but she had never before noted how warm his eyes were. She opened her mouth intending to firmly say no to what had been issued as a command only to find herself completely flummoxed when "Yes." came out instead. Against all common sense, this seemed the right thing to do.
Jonathon merely nodded as if her acquiescence had been a foregone conclusion and then rapped on the top of the carriage. When the driver slowed down, he ordered him to return to Gretna Green.