Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own anything related to Pirates of the Caribbean. Well, except a Jack Sparrow poster, but that's pretty much it. Only original creations (characters, places, etc) are mine.

AN: Okay, the lead female in this story is named Evianna, pronounced Ev-ee-anna. Her nickname is Evie, pronounced Ev-ee. Thanks for reading, and please review!

Chapter 2: Matchmaker:

"Morning, Miss Watkins!" called a group of lads, all of them waving gleefully.

Holding back a sigh, I pasted on a smile and nodded at the men as I passed. Although I didn't mind people being friendly, it was irritating to be constantly interrupted and waved at during my shopping trips in town. Nevertheless, it was an unfortunate part of my job as a matchmaker, and one that I had grown to accept. After all, everyone had to be on the good side of the one person who could pair them (or their children) with the ideal husband or wife.

Mine wasn't an unusual job, though it was certainly so for a woman below thirty years of age. Unfortunately, there were few options an unattached female could do in the way of work, and this one was what I'd chosen. I suppose I could have been a housekeeper, a maid, a seamstress, or a serving wench in a tavern, but those weren't the tasks for me. I wasn't good enough with a needle to earn my bread that way, and if there was one thing I, Evianna Watkins, refused to do, it was to serve as a wench, housekeeper, or as maid in a wealthy man's house! Tavern owners, rich men and their male servants tended to have wandering hands, and often tried to take liberties with the female staff members. I would not reduce myself to that!

But here in the town of Port Thomas, I had taken the unusual job of official matchmaker for the unmarried souls of the town. And for all that I was twenty-six, which was young for someone in that position, I was very good at what I did.

I had been born here in Port Thomas, a moderate English town in the Caribbean where everyone knew everyone, either vaguely or intimately. My mother had been a seamstress until my father, a baker, had married her, and the two had gone into business together, providing a fairly good lifestyle for themselves and, eventually, their only child, me.

Now, as a female, I had been told that I would have to get married in order to have a good future. When I was fifteen, my parents began throwing me together with some of the local boys in the hopes that I would find someone who was suited enough to be my husband. They prayed that, after making my choice and being wooed for a year or two, I would marry and start a family of my own.

Unfortunately, things didn't quite work out the way my parents had expected. For one reason or another, I didn't 'take' to any of the young men I was introduced to, and in fact sent them all after other young girls around town.

Mama and Papa, of course, had been livid. After all, what kind of girl would do such a thing? It just wasn't done, and it certainly wasn't usual in any way. When they demanded an explanation, my answer was simple.

"I merely sent them off to girls who better suited them," I had said, looking them straight in the eye. "Joshua is too fond of food for my liking, so I sent him off after the Tanners girl, who is a fine cook and a dear heart. Thomas does nothing but babble on and on about his father's merchant business, so I sent him after Marguerite, who is the shrewdest, cleverest girl I know, since she can bargain at the market like no one else."

Exasperated, Mama had collapsed in a chair while Papa lectured me and told me never to do that again. Confident that they had made their point, my parents again started their crusade to marry me off.

And once again, I began turning my would-be suitors towards girls who I felt were better for them than I. There had been the tailor's son (who had been introduced to the quiet daughter of an embroiderer), the blacksmith's son (passed on to another blacksmith's daughter), and the hatter's boy (who had been gently guided into the arms of a ribbon seller's niece).

To the amazement of the boys' parents (and mine), each of my pairings had produced a happily suited couple that quickly led to marriage. Mama and Papa couldn't understand it, and demanded that I stop sending suitors elsewhere, declaring that I needed to concentrate on finding my own husband first before I could make matches for others.

But their words didn't make sense to me. If I married and then tried to make matches, I would begin to see my husband in place of the other men, and the ladies in my own, which would prove disastrous. A good matchmaker aught to have a clear, unclouded view of her charges in order to make the best match possible. Besides, matchmakers made a good deal of money to bring men and women together, so why should I stop when I was so successful?

And I was successful. With a good half-dozen happy marriages under my belt, and at just sixteen, I was approached by numerous parents needing help in finding a husband or a wife for their child. Best of all, since I was quite familiar with the younger folk, I rarely had difficulties finding suitable mates for both boys and girls alike, and was well-compensated for my work.

There were, however, a few tricky sorts who made things a challenge. Some parents had sons or daughters who were unattractive, bad-tempered, or just plain mean, which was why it was so hard to find the right match for them.

Although I wasn't much of a romantic, per say, I very firmly believed that there was someone for everyone, and it was my job to see that my customers found that person. To accomplish this, I merely attempted to look a bit deeper into that person, and went in search of someone who "fit" them best. In the end, the mean-spirited ones were either matched with someone very much like them (which I tried to avoid as much as possible), or with a mate who was so patient and kind-hearted that the meanness eventually faded and left a relatively decent person behind.

The, um, 'unfortunate looking' customers were matched with either someone as 'unfortunate' as them, or someone who did not care about their spouse's looks. These pairings were the ones that I was most proud of, because the happiness on those faces made them truly beautiful, at least in my eyes.

But whatever the match was, I was rarely (if ever) wrong. Even if the burning romance in those marriages dimmed to a flicker or a glow, they at least remained content and marginally happy. Thus far, I had no one longing for a separation or a divorce, which was more than other matchmakers to say about their work.

As time went on and I turned nineteen, my parents gave up trying to find me a husband. They simply let me continue on the path I had chosen, with their grudgingly-given blessings. When I decided to use my savings to purchase a cottage of my own, they often came to visit and show their support.

"Know that we only did what we thought was best for you, Evie," Mother had said after one of our evenings together. "Even though you went against our wants, we still love you, darling."

Sighing, I tried to hold back tears. My mother and father had died several years ago of fever, and I never forgot what Mother had told me. It meant a great deal, knowing that they'd forgiven and loved me even after the path I had chosen.

Shaking my head to clear it, I walked towards a stall selling fruits and vegetables. A few apples, bananas, cabbages, and potatoes made their way into my basket, as well as a pineapple that would eventually be candied for later use.

"Oh, there you are Evie!" cried a nasally voice behind me.

Knowing who it was, I bit back a groan and paid the stall owner, who gave me a look of sympathy before turning to help another customer. Straightening, I turned around.

Rosamond Jacobs was the youngest sister of one of my former suitors, and had just turned seventeen. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, and slim, anyone would think she was never lacking for suitors of her own.

Sadly, the girl possessed a nose that would make an eagle proud -as a result, she had a voice that was slightly nasal and always high-pitched whenever she yelled or screamed in fright (which, thankfully, wasn't very often). Her face was otherwise pretty, but it was her nose that tended to send men running.

This was why, two weeks ago, Rosamond's parents had come to me to plead their daughter's case. They told me that Rosa, as they called her, was a fine girl who could cook, clean, sew, and tend the garden with no difficulty. She was also sweet, good-tempered, and would make the perfect wife for any man –they just couldn't understand why no one would look beyond the poor girl's nose and marry her.

Promising to do my best, I had been looking out for just the right fellow for Rosa. Needless to say, it had been very slow going, but it was starting to look rather promising lately.

"Evie, thank goodness I found you!" Rosamond said, smiling in relief as she approached. "I was wondering if you would mind telling me how it goes with my, um, situation?"

It was funny how women always referred to my efforts on their behalf a 'situation' –it always made them sound so polite and delicate.

I gave the young girl a genuine smile. To be quite honest, Rosa was a very sweet girl –it was just her nose was something of a sight, and her voice a trifle annoying. Still, you could hardly blame the girl for that, now, could you?

"It's coming along quite well, actually," I replied, shifting my basket from one arm to the other. "I think I might have found someone for you, but I would need to speak to you about him, first."

Rosa's blue eyes lit up like a spring morning. "Oh, tell me now!" she cried, grabbing my arm. "Come home with me and tell it over tea!"

Since having tea, luncheon, or supper with my customers was a requirement for someone in my line of work (and it saved me a fortune in food stuffs), I accepted. Rosa took the basket from me and chatted all the way to her home, which stood barely a hundred steps away from where we had been standing. Once inside, my basket was set neatly aside while a serving girl brought out tea.

"Now, tell me all about the fellow you've found for me," Rosa said as she poured and handed me the cup.

I stirred a bit of cream and honey into my cup. "Well, I'm afraid the young fellows are all rather shallow when it comes to outer beauty," I apologized. "I hope that doesn't lower your spirits any."

Rosa shook her head. "I'm not fond of anyone near my age anyway," she admitted.

"Good," I replied with a nod. "Because the man I found for you is rather close to your father's age."

I waved a hand to stop Rosa's protest. "He is rather decent looking, with graying hair, and good-hearted, if not cheery. He is a merchant, like your father, and is searching for a young wife to love and spoil, as well as to have children with." I paused. "He is also rather near-sighted."

Rosa burst out laughing. "Oh, Evie, only you could find a man with bad eyesight for a girl as hopeless looking as me!" she chortled. "Well, as long as he isn't cruel, doesn't possess warts or pox scars, and isn't violent, I shall be perfectly happy."

Sipping my tea, I tried not to breathe a sigh of relief. Master Henry Marks, merchant extraordinaire, was a new gentleman in Port Thomas, and knew no one in the town. However, having heard of me through local gossip, as well as my impeccable record, he had come to my house in the hopes of finding a wife. He admitted to being so focused on his company that he had neglected to try and find himself a bride, and begged for me to help him.

"With my poor eyesight going, it won't matter to me what the girl looks like, as long as she isn't hideous," he'd said. "All I want is a good, honest, sweet girl who would be happy to marry me and give me children. In all likelihood, I'll end up spoiling the lot of them, but as long as we're all content, that doesn't matter to me."

He was such a good fellow that it would have broken my heart if Rosa wouldn't have him.

After we had finished with tea, Rosa led me to the door and dropped a sack of coins into my palm and closed her fingers over them. "I don't know how you do it, Evie," she said. "You can make a match for any man or woman who comes to your door. Even if they are new in town or people just passing through, they come to you for help, and you can find them a husband or wife from either Port Thomas, or even on the ship they're traveling on. What's more, you're never wrong."

"Oh, never say that," I said, knocking on a nearby wood table to ward off bad luck. "I admit to not being one hundred percent right, though. Some of my matches were merely for people who were desperate to marry and thrilled just to have found a spouse. They aren't really happy, exactly, but they end up relatively content."

"But you aren't exactly wrong, either," Rosa stressed.

I laughed, and tucked the coins into my basket before swinging it onto my arm. "No, sometimes I border the line between the two. But I'm always happy when one of my matches works out in the end."

Rosa grasped my arm, a sad look on her soft face. "I'm just sorry you haven't found a match for you, Evie," she said as I waved farewell and she closed the door behind me.

Sighing, I headed for home, Rosa's words hovering in my ears. It was an old lament frequently sung about me amongst the women of the town. They thought it a pity that I had managed to marry off so many women, but never found someone for me. I knew there were rumors about me, whispers about my possibly detesting men, or that I preferred the company of other women more than men.

It was all nonsense, of course. I very much preferred men –it was just difficult to find the one who was right for me. I knew every marriageable man in Port Thomas, and none of them appealed to me. It was frustrating.

And because of my unmarried status, I was, technically, an "old maid." However, no one dared call me that to my face or within hearing range, not if they wanted to end up happily married themselves. Everyone knew you didn't upset the woman who could place you with the right husband or wife.

Knowing of the townswomen's pity still hurt, though. I sometimes found myself wondering if there was something wrong with me –after all, I had always turned away my admirers and pointed them in the direction of another woman.

'But those women always made a far better match for them than I ever could,' I reasoned as I made my way up my front steps.

Still, what if one of those men had been right for me? Did I not have the right to find a husband?

'But what good is a husband?' I demanded to myself. 'I earn my own money, so I've no need of a man to support me. The only person I have to clean up after is me, not myself and another. All of the possessions in the house are my own, bought with my own funds.'

I also had a many friends in town, so I wasn't really lonely…until I returned to an empty house, with no one waiting up for me. I didn't even have a cat or dog for company.

'On the other hand, I don't have to share my lovely bed with anyone.' Of course, there was a downside to that, too…

Sighing, I slipped into the house and locked the door. It was time to start supper.

AN: Review?