Book Five - Chapter Three: Lord Crestcastle

The coach drove up to the estate. When the servant opened the door, the heated argument was still going on. Lady Crestcastle was escorted out of the coach first and she wasted no time in hurrying to the house. Lord Crestcastle was not far behind.

"Don't you walk away from me!" he shouted, taking hold of her arm. He turned her towards him. She scowled but said nothing. Disapproving of her manners, Lord Crestcastle struck her across the face with his free hand.

"Would you and the lady care for tea, Sir?" one of the servants asked, subtly trying to interrupt the action.

Lord Crestcastle removed his firm hold on her arm and allowed her to pass over the threshold.

"The lady is in no need of refreshments tonight," he said, sending the message clearly to all who could hear. "She is tired and will not be disturbed within her room." His attention turned to his wife who was already ascending the stairs, "Do I make myself clear?"

She said nothing. The servants acquiesced in her stead. She was soon out of sight but her bedroom door could be heard slamming shut. Lord Crestcastle grumbled beneath his breath and ascended the stairs to his own quarters on the opposing wall from his wife's. He was halfway there when heard a heavy knock on the door. He stopped for a moment thinking it strange that he hadn't seen anyone when the coach pulled up to the estate. The servant opened the door. Lord Crestcastle tapped his fingers on the banister, debating whether or not to continue up the stairs. His mind was made up for him when he heard a shot fire. He quickly turned on his heels to see his servant falling backwards.

"Good God," he said to himself. He stepped down a single step. He checked his belt. He had no means of defence with him. There was no time to fetch one.

Two men entered through the door. One carried two pistols, the one smoking, obviously being the one that was recently fired, meaning that the second was ready to follow suit. The second man entered with a pistol and a drawn sword.

"What is the meaning of this?" Lord Crestcastle shouted. "Who are you?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow," he said, cocking his gun, "savvy?"

"What do you want? Name your price and be gone," Crestcastle said unwaveringly.

"Oh, come now, don't be like that. We've got an old score to settle, you and me," Jack said.

"What are you talking about? You must be mistaken. I've never seen you before in my life."

"No, but I've you, and that pretty little wife of yours."

There was something eerily sinister in the man's voice that worried the lord.

"Where is she, I wonder?" Jack continued.

"What do you want with her?"

"I could ask you the same thing, mate."

It didn't seem like Lord Crestcastle was going to be eager to comply. Jack gave an order to his partner, "Watch him."

"Already on it," Pintel replied giddily.

"Amelia!" Jack called.

There was no response. Not a sound anywhere.

"Call her out," Jack ordered.

"Amelia!" Lord Crestcastle complied. "Amelia, get down these stairs this instant!"

Pintel cocked his gun and said, "Nicely."

There was no need to ask another time. Everyone could hear her door creak open.

"Amelia, darling," Crestcastle said forcedly.

The word "darling" made Amelia uneasy about approaching. As she advanced she first saw her husband still on the stair case, looking as though he was frozen. She was about to ask what the matter was when from the corner of her eye she saw the men standing in the foyer, or more so, she saw their weapons. She put her hands on the banister.

"Mr. Pintel?" she said with confusion. She recognized him immediately. Her attention then went to the other man. She felt her breath shorten. It couldn't be. She placed her hand over her mouth and spoke through the gaps of her fingers, "You're alive."

Lord Crestcastle began to laugh, "Trust you to know these men personally. Nothing but wretched bandits."

Everyone ignored him.

Jack couldn't take his eyes off of the red mark that was imprinted on Amelia's cheek. This last strike was not enough to bruise but it was plainly visible. Jack sheathed his sword.

"Come on, love," Jack said tenderly. "You've no reason to stay."

Amelia took a few steps forward, still clinging to the banister. Tears welled up in her eyes as she shook her head.

"I can't, Jack," she said. "I have a son –"

"Who's safe," Jack interrupted. "Tristan is safe. He's waiting for you."

Amelia was shocked to hear him call her son by name. It had to be true.

"Tristan?" she said, a tear streaming down her cheek.

"Come on, love," Jack said, holding out his hand to her.

Amelia nodded her head and cautiously moved towards the stairs.

"My God," Crestcastle said laughing to himself, "it's the blooming father, isn't it? I always thought you were a cheap slut but that's lower still."

Jack fired a shot, puncturing the wall beside Crestcastle. It caused the crude lord to jump.

"Just let the girl go and keep your mouth shut," Jack ordered.

Lord Crestcastle put his palms up. "By all means," he said stepping back to let the girl pass by.

Amelia descended cautiously. She knew that her husband would not let her go so easily. When she moved in front of him, she began to tremble with anticipation. Her caution did not help her. Before her foot could touch the step below her, Crestcastle's knee rose up.

"Join your bastard son," he said and pushed her down the stairs.

Amelia was unable to brace herself. She fell and rolled down the stairs.

Pintel immediately fired a shot. Crestcastle tumbled backwards, still alive, grabbing hold of the banister to keep himself in place.

Jack rushed to Amelia. He caught her as she was about to fall onto the floor. He turned her over. She was battered. Her eyes were shut. Anger consumed him. He called for Pintel to check on the girl. He drew is sword and marched with stern determination up the stairs.

Crestcastle tried to pull himself up but was without success. Jack hovered over him.

Pintel checked on Amelia. She was not responding.

"She's not breathing," he noticed. He said it once more loud enough for Jack to hear. Pintel continued checking. Her shoulder felt dislocated and her neck extremely loose. "Come on, poppet," he said, urging her to be well.

Jack's breathing became heavier. He was ready to run the man through, but he knew that would be a fate too good for him.

It was too late. There was nothing Pintel could do.

"It's done, Captain," Pintel said morosely.

Jack thrust his sword down. That was done, too.