Entry 4

I stared at the portrait of Earl Woodworth's niece. Mother of my sister's suitor as tilted the glass in my hand from one side to another while trying to find some similiarities between the two. The ice clinking due to the movement when I remained absorbed into the review of the previous conversation that had taken place, my eyes eventually following the smoke of a cigar that slithered toward the high ceiling.

"Guid ain't it? Me ain brand, drink nothin' else. A bottle o' this guid ol' swallae 'n' ye find yerself ascend tae gods!"

I looked at my glass with a smile, taking a sip. "It has a nice kick to it."

"I'm surprised ye ta handle a tumbler sae weel. Scots whiskey doesn't git any stronger than this. Anither *hauf' fur ye?"

I shook my head to decline. Though the beverage he served was excellent there was no point in getting myself drunk tonight, when important matters needed my full awareness. Me then staying silent for awhile, until soon started to speak again without noticing, changing the subject. "What are you going to do?"

I turned to eye at the Scotsman who was sitting in a chair across from me, downing his portion of the whiskey he'd just uncorked after my arrival half an hour ago, returning my gaze what else but serious.

"What I must. Today's incident cannae recur", he replied, tapping his glass with his fingers contemplatively. Where I frowned, leaning backwards.

"It might not be easy. He can prove to be much more challenging problem to deal with", I reminded. "Even if it's about her. Especially then, and I wouldn't be here if you didn't know it yourself."

Regardless of my skepticism I only caused my host to simply laugh at me.

"Every jimmy has their limits in fightin' back th' inevitable. Trust me Mr. Martins, lik' every rebellious bairn can be taught tae behave, sae shall he. Unfortunately th' task tae mak' 'im understand that has fallen tae us, as ye have taken note o' by me invitation."

"This is so typical of him."

McTavish smirked at me. "Bitter?"

"Rightfully so. But that's beside the point."

"Nae at all, lad. Because isn't that really why ye're sittin' there, drinkin' me scotch?"

I lifted my jaw as thought of his words, eventually replying. My own coming out somewhat thoughtful. "I try."

"Worry nae, lad. Ye're doin' th' right thing. Ye have th' needed vision tae deal wi' this capricious spanner in me works. 'N' fur that a'm glad to be soon able tae regard ye as family."

I nodded my thanks as then rose from my seat, by the current look on McTavish's face telling me that our little meeting had now reached it end. 'N' indeed he then pointed toward the doorway significantly.

"But awa' wi' ye noo. Lik' came up in oor discussion I have some urgent business tae attend tae."

So he said. However before I'd had the time to reach the exit he lastly waved toward the bottle on his desk, smile playing on his lips.

"Take that wi' ye 'n' hold oanto it. Let us toast fur mair gratifyin' matters at yer place when th' time is back oan oor side."

I snatched the bottle into my hand with a quick glance directed at the man sitting behind me, nodding again to express my respect.

"'Greed. I tell your regards to my sister."

"If ye see 'er, please do."

"Drat!"

I eyed at the ruined piece of ceremonial sword in my hand, cursing in my mind as then with exasperated breath I simply abandoned it into the water container next to me. Well this sword was as good as gone. I'd forged the tip too thin and now it had curved beyond repair, so there was no way for me to get this order ready on schedule… I just had to figure out an excuse to buy me some more time to have it finished.

Ever since the fight I'd had with Miranda I hadn't been able to bounce back from it, but just like her back at that stable had still been filled with silent rage hours later. Me not being able to bring myself to digest all she'd said to me in that heated spur of a moment, something she'd undoubtedly wished to blast at my face for a very long time. The argument of course upsetting me and causing me to loose my focus on the work at hand as some things she'd said had hurt me deeply, with such indiscretion that what actually had hurt me more had been her way of talking to me. So angrily and voice filled with such contempt that made it hard for me to believe that girl I'd seen this afternoon to be the same Miranda I knew. Because the way I'd seen her in totally different light today, allowing that Scotsman to treat her like she was nothing but a woman he picked from a street and above all defending his actions… it made me think that she truly had changed into someone I couldn't recognize. That his continuous presence in her life had turned her into a stranger. And I didn't find it in myself to accept that, that incident only strengthening my belief that Taran McTavish was a force to be reckoned with. Very insidious one to boot.

So my thoughtlessness ultimately resulting into a catastrophy I cursed some more (even usually I did no such thing) as now pulled another piece of steel from the barrel near the fireplace, sticking it into the hot hearth to warm up. I might've as well gotten started with the replacement piece, it wasn't like I was going to get much sleep anyway...

After a few minutes of waiting I estimated the steel to be hot enough from the brightness of the metal, me rolling up my sleeves as took hold of the tongs to lift it onto the anvil to be molded. But a series of sharp knocks emanating from the door startled me so that along with the metal I accidentally flung some coals into the air. My eyes widening for fright as I saw some of them land to a chair a few feet away, onto I'd carefully arranged my tomorrow's outfit, and which for my great terror burst into flames the minute the hot pieces of carbon got in contact with the fabric. The knocking repeating as demanding when I dashed to rescue the clothes from ultimate destruction with another curse in a split of a second, tipping over the water container. Warm water splashing all over my breeches as I hastily grasped the smouldering jacket and got rid of the coals. Each of them luckily dropping onto the ground before any serious harm was done, me listening to the fizz of the cooling stones in the water gathered at me feet.

Even deeper sigh of vexation left my lips as I now eyed at the wedding clothes I'd found waiting for me at the smithy once I'd arrived. My frustration not lowering at all by the notion that not but tiny holes had had the time to form in places that were easily concealed once I'd put this jacket on tomorrow. Well that's what I got for not moving them into the safety of my upstairs apartment, but as had already been indicated my mind hadn't worked in most functional way until now. Me simply lifting my hands in the air in surrender, rolling my eyes in irritation when I noticed the shirt to have gotten some stains on it, the jacket soon dropping on top of it in nonchalant manner. I didn't have enough capability at the moment to worry about some clothes I disliked to wear anyway…

Whoever stood behind the door didn't seem to realize the extremely belated hour of the evening, so once more I heard something hit against the wooden door so heavily that I saw it shake. Me at first thinking it to be Peter, returned from one of his drunken excursions, but then remembered not to have seen him stick his nose in those doors for weeks without a reason for him to make an exception now. Me then only gazing upon the mess I'd created and ignored the banging of the late customer, lifting up the container. Raising vexed eyebrows when the rest of the contents sloshed across the hay filled floor.

"We're closed for the day!"

Instead of further knocking I then heard an odd rattle coming from the entrance, me stopping my doings to follow in astonishment how somewhat familiar looking head of a walking stick pushed through the slit between two bolted doors, under the rafter until with ease pried it aside. That very same cane then pushing the doors open, in walking a man I least expected to gain a visit from. Me straightening my posture and turning serious as I watched Mr. McTavish enter, giving the old Amanda as well as the formed clutter a fleeting glance himself until removed his hat. Bowing to me.

"Guid evening, lad. Wish nae tae intrude so late, but I found it neseccary tae have a moment o' hert-tae-hert wi' ye. I might nae get th' chance th'morra due tae certain pleasant circumstances that prevent it."

I got an odd sensation from that sentence but stuck to directing a doubtful look behind him at the door instead of bringing up my suspicions, inclining my head before lifted the hammer I'd dropped, placing it with the rest of the tools. "About what?"

"Let us nae waste each o' oor time wi' meaningless ignorance which in this case is but pretence", the Scotsman stated behind me, me turning to face him. Examining him, where he started to wander aboot the shop in ponders. Stopping beside the rack in which I stored the finished swords I was most proud of, giving them each an approving look ower, me watching him to take one into his hand eventually. Checking the quality of my work by stretching the weapon forward at the level of his eyes, to see was the blade ideally straight and proportioned.

"So lad, ye're a blacksmith", he soon remarked, his eyes on the blade when he then beckoned to the hammer with his free hand. Me extending it to him in utmost stir upon wondering his need for it, until his strange request was explained by the sight of him bringing the weapon upon the anvil. Me stepping out of the way as he next directed a powerful blow upon the steel to see did it hold without breaking. And it did, regardless of the slight irritation that took hold of me then me smiling inwardly in satisfaction when my skill proved to be superior to his perception. My eyes however squinting while I watched him then lift the blade into the light of the flames, admiring it with a delighted smile on his lips.

"Me granda used tae be one too. As a wee lad I often loitered at his underfoot when he was preparin' weapons lik' these tae th' British Army. Braw things thay were, such as this one…"

I followed his movements as he then placed the sword onto the nearby table before throwing the hammer back to me. Next looking at me in his poised, polite manner.

"As me granda, I hold muckle respect toward a workin' jimmy. Lassy Elisabeth shall have a stoatin husband fur 'erself."

"I doubt you have come here to congratulate", I noted, sensing the implicature of his speech which was but camouflaged under that perfunctory display of civility, as I'd perceived by now from those few meetings of ours. But I didn't think he even tried to convince me otherwise, as something in his perfectly composed expression then changed when he locked gazes with me. Walking closer.

"Cannie one as weel. Aye, I can see how come ye seem tae attract wummin lik' cursed treasures draw rovers", he responded, his smile widening, but he was far from pleased. Something in that hard gaze which never left mine confirming that, where his seriousness didn't faze me. Me folding my arms on my chest as tilted my head, waiting for him to continue, though those last words had made me wonder once again.

"I'm feart me business is ower delicate. Otherwise I wouldn't have disturbed a smitten man oan th' verge o' his mairriage…" he continued when I stayed silent, me releasing a low sigh as leant against the anvil indifferently.

"And yet this conversation seems to be needlessly prolonged by circumlocution. I haven't taken you as a man who prefers to mince words as the one who requested mutual candor", I answered, McTavish smiling at me in consent, amused.

"I believe ye tae awready ken th' true nature o' me visit", he remarked, leaning onto his cane while came to a halt a feet away from me. Me eyeing at him in honest confusion, shaking my head.

"I do not."

"Lik' ye said I asked fur candor, lad. 'N' expect tae receive it."

"Likewise. It is you who has arrived at my doorstep without a further explanation than your desire to talk."

Flicker of something dark visited the man's eyes as he now lifted his jaw, gauging at me while replied after a moment of silence. "I wished tae clarify some issues concernin' th' lass ye appear tae be pure keen oan."

I frowned. "Elizabeth?"

"Miranda."

I stiffened against my will, staring back at him in a momentary loss of words when he abruptly brought up Miranda. Causing all those vexating emotions of anger and melancholy to resurface when her name brought the fall out back into my mind, until it was quickly enough forgotten by the qualm the change of topic provoked in me.

"What about her?" I queried, though as he'd implied had a good idea about that. His following words not coming as a surprise to me.

"I need tae warn ye lad fur nae anymair actin' afore thinkin' th' common guid o' those close tae ye. 'N' speakin' o' common guid, as she has repeatedly indicated, Mr. Turner, ye should worry less aboot 'er happiness 'n' focus oan yer ain while it lasts."

I said nothing in response, just returning his stare with unreadable expression. And as I remained silent against his expectations, with a slight irritated flicker in his eyes he once again continued. His features turned completely earnest, him throwing away the last traces of the well-mannered gentleman with his blunt delivery which in my ears boded threat.

"There's indeed naw point in sugar-coatin' th' matter sae I cut tae th' chase… As ye've probably awready realized she's soon tae be mine, 'n' quite frankly I don't appreciate other men circlin' aroond me property", he informed, emphasizing his words as his gaze seemed to drill into mine to make his point clear, his in a blink hostile become presence however only annoying me instead of daunting me when I finally got a glimpse of his true nature I'd been suspicious of from the start. "Tae be clear, I suggest ye tae leave th' lass tae me 'n' centre upoan yer bride tae be."

"And what would she think if she found out you to have come here to threaten me?" I questioned, not submitting before his aimed superiority which like noted was aimed to repress me. But I wasn't a bit affected by his foreboding insinuation, only returning his stare with steel hard eyes that matched his.

"Nae a threat", he remarked. "Juist a reminder that ye should hold yer ain luved one close 'n' take naw interest in others."

I got yet another bad feeling from that remark which had sounded somewhat significant to me, this possibly another intentional slip of his tongue causing me to frown again in doubt as gauged at his words carefully, eyeing at him contemplatively. "What're you implying?"

"Simply statin' th' facts ye have proven as correct. At least I'll bade fateful tae 'er noo that she's taken me fancy, unlik' certain young charmer's who cannot keep it from resistin' th' appeal o' others."

Plain rage invaded me then, me taking a step toward him where he next appeared not to even care to hear my reply would it be agreeable or not, bypassing my evident indignation by taking the sword back into his hands.

"What do you want from her?" I inquired, apparently amusing the Scotsman.

"Whit men generally want from bonnie wummin. Same ye decidedly desire from Lassy Elizabeth."

I knew that was meant to stir my anger, and he succeeded. Me holding back my urge to grab him like I'd done that afternoon, even deep within I knew him to be right. But the way he stood there in front of me then, as a living, breathing embodiment of everything I'd found disagreeable in him every time I'd seen him with Miranda simply enraged me.

"I'm not that disgraceful. I love Elizabeth, where you don't even care for Miranda."

"If by that ye're promptin' me tae stay awa' from 'er, I fur one urge ye tae beware!" McTavish breathed then, me squinting at him as he was once more standing in front of me. After a brief moment of intense stare then turning to look at my wedding attire, the tip of his cane rising to my chest.

"Ye've renounced o' yer right tae interfere. Sae for yer ain guid 'n' yer bride's, pay heed 'n' tak' yer ain advice by stayin' awa' from th' lass. I won't tell ye twice lad."

He tapped my chest with the cane once, then retreating from me and pushed his hand under his jacket. Me watching how he took out a pouch of money and dropped it onto the table in place of the sword, in the end smiling at me with thankful a nod.

"Fur th' sword. 'N' also a wee spur fur yer assent… Have a guid night Mr. Turner. I wish everythin' goes uneventfully th'morra."

I leered at him as followed him next to head for the door, closing them behind himself as if he'd never been there. My eyes falling to stare at the money he'd left in contempt, the emblem printed on it however soon waking my interest and I took the pouch into my hand. After a minute of examining it in deep ponders me getting convinced that I'd seen that symbol somewhere before.

I was a coward. One big coward.

I was eyeing at meself from th' mirror, starin' at th' dress o' braw silk unlik' I'd ever worn afore in me life. That pale yellow gown I'd been given by Elizabeth 'n' William some weeks ago (which kind I'd ne'ver could've afford wi' me salary) goin' very weel wi' me pale skin 'n' bringin' some life to th' flat hue o' my hair which I'd as weel organized intae a neat coiffure. Completely ready to attend th' wedding…

'N' yet I couldn't take that crucial step toward me bedroom door 'n' juist sank to sit oan th' bed, leanin' me jaw on me palm while releasing a deep sigh. Lik' th' day afore I hadn't managed to sleep a wink either last night, me thoughts still buzzin' lik' a beehive, what else but circlin' aroond th' weddin'. 'N' Taran. Aroond th' fact that he would maist likely ask me to marry 'im today at th' wedding reception, should I decide to attend.

I feared to leave that room to be honest, as I couldn't have cleared me emotions enough during th' night for me to ken what they were exactly. I mean, how could I agree to marry a man I maybe didnae luv sufficiently to commit for 'im for th' rest o' me life? Aye, I'd claimed otherwise to William, but only to upset him… Or had I?

Efter reexamining me emotions for th' final time (wi' far too much effort) wi'oot helpful results, I let oot a desperate moan due to me insuperable confliction as stood. Givin' me reflection one mair incredulous glance 'til sighed deeply, removin' th' pins which hold me locks in place afore took aff th' finest pieces o' jewelry I owned. Hangin' th' silvery necklace o' me late maw ontae th' mirror, endin' up smoothin' it in in sudden yearnin'o' old. I so missed 'er right noo, when I was at total loss what to do. She would've kenned that 'n' adviced me… or told me to get meself together 'n' accept Taran's proposal wi'oot hesitation. At least that's what Mattie would've offered as a solution to this mess I'd simply tried to sweep under th' rug wi' th' aid o' Taran's attention… But as maw wasn't 'ere 'n' I wasn't ready to go doonstairs to listen to me mother figure's speculations, I realized that I efter all wouldn't go to th' weddin'. I juist couldn't do it. 'N' I hated that decicion as it made me feel lik' a bad person, but lik' I said… I was a feartie-cat.

I went to th' closet, opened it 'n' pushed me dresses aside to take oot a frequently rummaged wee travel trunk. It was worn 'n' ol', but had suited me maw's needs back at th' time she'd wance sailed to Port Royal along wi' 'er small posessions. Ne'er leavin' since… I pulled it oot ontae th' floor, sweepin' me haun ower maw's name painted ontae th' cover wi' a slight smile afore lifted th' lid. Old hinges creakin' fouly, dust flyin' right oanto me coupon 'n' causin' me to sneeze. It had been some time since I'd last keeked at maw's things…

I sat doon, me huge hem spreadin' aroond me as I stretched me arm into th' trunk to ezamine th' foremaist piece o' maw's past. There were all kinds o' things… Letters, keepsakes 'n' a few books from 'er youth… 'N' yet I'd ne'ver found anyhtin' which would've given me a hint aboot maw's family. Nae in 'er diaries, nor in any letters I'd read thro' a thousand times were anythin' which would've left an impression that we had alive relatives somewhere (any other than auntie Susan, maw's cousin from whom majority o' th' existin' letters were from). As maw had ne'er spoken aboot 'er life afore she'd married oor father, so me 'n' Peter had always assumed there to be no-one to contact wi' efter 'er death. But all those things she'd hold onto aboot 'er life wi' father… It indicated that she'd clearly luved 'im mair than anythin'. 'N' upon understandin' that I'd always wanted to have somethin' even close to that luv they'd shared… But in th' light o' current situation I deemed that to be impossible.

For th' neist twenty minutes I leafed thro' those same letters. Took oot some o' 'er old dresses 'n' read some lines from those books she'd adored 'n' read to me wi'oot me ever getting' tired o' th' tales they hold. Dooncast memories returnin' back to me as always whenever I took a moment to remember th' woman who'd raised me. But all that longin' finally resulted intae a need to leave th' room to visit 'er gravesite, me closin' th' book's cover when me wee clock informed me th' wedding to be aboot to stairt soon.

Wi' another sigh I stairted to load maw's belongings back intae th' trunk, it takin' awhile afore I'd managed to return 'em to their places efter surroundin' meself wi' 'em lik' I'd used to do as a bairn. But as I placed th' last object inside me sleeve got caught intae a loose nail, me frownin' chagrined as th' thin chiffon o' me sleeve ripped a wee when unaware o' it I accidentally pulled me arm back. But efter givin' th' damaged fabric a quick glance I noticed to have managed to rip open some linin' at th' side o' th' trunk too. Somethin' white peekin' under it.

Maw had apparently hidden somethin' under th' worn oot samet, me fingers nae wastin' time to pull oot what it proved to be a bunch o' letters. Freish ones I'd ne'er laid me eyes upoan afore that day. 'N' in even greater confusion I neist stairted to read 'em thro', deducin' by th' condition o' some o' 'em that th' first letters must've dated back to th' time afore th' birth o' Peter 'n' me. Th' actual days marked at th' start o' each one continuin' all th' wey to th' year maw had passed awa', none o' 'em containin' any information which would've shed a light upon th' identity o' th' mysterious sender. Only one letter scribbled at th' end o' th' altogether short messages.

I stared at th' letter "C", which could've also been a "B" taken th' very cursive writin' style o' th' writer. So that hardly was any helpful, there were millions o' people in' th' world wi' names stairtin' wi' such initials. So efter skimmin' thro' a few maist promisin' lines which hinted o' a closer relationship from plain acquaintance wi' maw, I then gave in. Nae getting' any mair oot o' th' letters to get any closer to th' truth aboot their origin.

I took a shortcut to th' cemetary, nae but a few minutes later efter leavin' th' Swann manor th' gates o' th' boneyard comin' to sight. Me passin' th' small chapel, afore stairted to wind atween th' tombstones 'n' crosses, me gaze eventually hittin' oan th' familiar one which was positioned right neist to th' wonderful view ower th' harbor 'n' openin' sea behind it. Buried to a place she'd hoped wance, back when she'd been healthy... Long afore she'd gotten ill.

We obviously couldn't have afford a tombstone, so we'd picked th' prettiest cross and had 'er name engraved oan it afore she'd finally been put to rest among other underprivileged previously departed. 'N' in truth she wouldn't have needed one, as wasn't th' memory o' th' deceased that mattered th' maist? Wasn't it maist important to have some place where ye could leave a flower 'n' think o' th' dead, regardless o' th' location? Weel to me it was, me glancin' doon at th' modest flowers I'd brought along wi' me from oor ain garden at th' backyard 'til came to a halt in front o' maw's grave. Smilin'.

"Hello maw."

I sighed as was then aboot to wipe th' gathered grim from th' cross, but was instead taken aback by th' bouquet o' flowers that I suddenly noticed to have been set to lean against it. A quite luxorious one, decorated wi' a white ribbon which had maw's full name embroidered oan it, me ain certainly palin' in comparison. It was so fresh that it must've been left there juist recently, but by whom I couldn't understand 'n' was but baffled by me discovery. It couldn't have been brought by Peter, as he ne'ver visited 'er grave due to his quilt. So who could've it been then?

I knelt to take th' boquet intae me haun, decidin' that it truly was beautiful wi' all those roses 'n' violets which both had been 'er favorites. 'N' that detail only added intae me perplexity aboot th' mystery o' these flowers in addition to th' sudden findin' o' th' letters. But afore I could spend mair time to ponder aboot th' possible person who could've honored maw's memory enough to leave such exquisite bunch behind, I was then awoken from me reverie by drops which as abruptly fell from th' sky. Me gazin' up in wonder to see th' clouds which had appeared oot o' nowhere. Th' sunlight soon runnin' awa' from th' avalanchin' grey mass, where abrupt breeze comin' from th' sea grasped me dress' hem 'n' draped it aroond me legs. Was it goin' to rain?

Lured by th' wind I noo turned aroond to peer to th' horizon in case o' some darker clouds which would've explained th' quick change o' weather, recallin' how th' last time sky had foreshadowed a storm me life had been disrupted by th' arrival o' Th' Black Pearl. But instead o' any pirate ship what I then saw seizin' th' secenry were numerous burly vessels o' unkown origin, which had as seguedly occupied th' cove. Me squintin' me eyes against th' rain which noo stairted to pour from th' heavens to see those strange flags flappin' in their masts in th' light o' th' foremaist thunderbolts. Each carryin' a white logo consistin' o' three joined crosses 'n' letters "E", "I" 'n' "Co". East India Trading Company.

What is EITC doin' in Port Royal?

In utmaist confusion I daunered closer, witnessin' several rowboats to be launched from all ships, me then followin' 'em to head for th' shore. Each one carrying armed soldiers dressed in th' red blouses o' th' British Army, their arrival appearin' mair o' a landin' o' a attackin' host than a strandin' o' Britain's largest joint-stock company. But then again, why would a company o' merchants arrive to oor town accompanied by their ain private military forces?

I didn't stay put to find oot as th' rain increased by th' minute, me nae desirin' to drench meself 'n' expose meself to pnemounia. Me turnin' me back to th' disembarked soldiers as left th' cemetary. Bein' careful nae to go near th' weddin' venue oan me wey back, which o' coorse would've been emptied by noo because o' th' rain. But I didn't take any chances to either run intae William or Taran as wasn't prepared to face either o' 'em yet. Runnin' units o' those arrived officers crossin' me path oan several occasion, me however nae goin' jalousin' their headin'. But they appeared to be in as great hurry as I, where I only wanted to get oot o' that shower.

I released a half relieved half amused exclaim as I finally stormed inside th' kitchen. Droppin' th' shawl I'd used to keep me heid mair or less dry, then instantly hearin' th' door open 'n' I turned to see Mattie standin' there.

"It's a rainin' cats 'n' dogs oot there", I remarked, placin' th' scarf ontae th' chair's backrest. Me nae at first takin' notice o' th' elderly woman's odd face which indicated o' alarm o' some form, as she simply smiled at me weakly.

"Pity that the wedding is now ruined", she noted. "It was such a beautiful day just an hour ago."

"Aye, truly a shame."

"Are you coming from the ceremony?"

"Naw."

There was curt silence as I didn't want to say anythin' nae to reveal me true thoughts (how upset I still was against 'er beliefs), me simply keekin' awa' as Mattie remained at th' doorstep. Me then sighin' 'n' makin' a slight smile meself, turnin' to 'er while snatched me apron from th' rack.

"Do ye want a cup o' tea?"

"Actually Miranda, there's someone waiting for you at the lounge."

"Taran?" I asked, pouring some water intae th' kettle. "Could ye go 'n' ask 'im to wait for awhile? I'll prepare somethin'tasty to nibble oanto while I'm at it…"

"No Miranda, it isn't Mr. McTavish."

I paused, turnin' to noo clearly upset Mattie in wonder. "Then who?"

"He didn't say his name, none of them did. Just asked you to be brought to them immediately when you arrive…"

We exchanged a stare as I took in 'er news, getting' mair puzzled by th' minute 'til I then saw Mattie shake 'er heid at me, incredulous.

"All those soldiers arriving to the manor in search of you… Miranda, what have you done child?"

I placed th' kettle oan th' table as in dismay daunered to th' door, Mattie followin' right at me wake as I went straight to th' lounge. Me eyes truly widenin' for fleetin' ootrage as I saw aroond six soldiers to stand inside th' room. All o' 'em noo turnin' to face us as we came to a abrupt halt at th' entrance, th' redcoats takin' a stance as their Commander came straight to me. Bowin' to me for me great confusion.

"Are you Miss. Martins?"

"Aye."

"Ma'am, I'm Commander Thomas Faye of His Majesty's Royal Navy and the deputy of East India Trading Company. I have come due to the request of my employer who has instructed me to bring you to him immediately", he announced in utmaist urgency, me simply blinkin' at 'im in equal bafflement wi' Mattie's who stepped forth then, keekin' at th' man in th' dark uniform in worry.

"What has she done, sir? Why must you take her with you?" she inquired, curtsyin' a wee afore then took hold o' me forearms, impatiently expectin' an reply from th' Officer. Commander Faye nae respondin' as I then slightly frowned at 'im.

"Why has yer employer requested to meet me?" I queried in turn, truly curious. Stupefied. I had ne'er done anythin' illegal which would've resulted intae an audience wi' a high rankin' military figure… But Commander Faye simply bowed his heid for th' second time, nae at all calmin' doon either Mattie or me by answerin' to oor questions but evasively.

"I cannot say ma'am. I was ordered not to discuss of the matter with you because he wishes to explain the situation in person. Now please, come with us and we'll take you directly to him."

I juist stayed frozen oanto me spot for a few seconds as allowed me gaze to round th' coupons of th' lounge invaded officers 'til it eventually found its wey back to Commander Faye. Me holdin' back an urge to swallow as noo turned to nervous keekin' Mattie, quellin' 'er wi' me eyes 'n' a slight smile.

"But Miranda…"

"It's awright Mattie. I'll be back soon", I promised, as was maist confident o' me return, taken intae consideration me record which was clean o' all felonies big or wee. Me facin' Mr. Faye again wi' a slight nod.

"Very weel, I'll come wi' ye."

Th' Commander returned th' nod, then extendin' his haun 'n' beckonin' to th' apron I was still wearin'. Me givin' it an odd keek 'til removed it, handin' it to' im who in turn gave it to Mattie, straightenin'.

"Let us go then."

So I followed Commander Faye 'n' his men ootside, only to be surprised by an umbrella which instantly appeared to shelter me from th' rain th' minute I stepped ower th' threshold, me givin' th' soldier holdin' it a confused gaze 'til directed me attention forward. Blinkin' for greater astonishment as was then ushered intae a carriage waitin' for us in front o' th' manor, th' Commander keepin' th' door open for me afore soon joined me. 'N' immediately we set oot, me mind swarmin' for all possible thoughts 'n' scenarios th' whole wey.

This couldn't have anythin' to do wi' Jack Sparrow, noo could it? I couldn't figure oot anythin' else in me recent life which would've been connected to anythin' unlawful. 'N' th' mair I pondered aboot th' reason why I'd been oot o' th' blue summoned by an important dignitary o' EITC (which as th' doonside o' their success in worldwide trade constantly suffered for serious hardships because o' thriving piracy) th' very same day they arrive to Port Royal, that option stairted to appear mair probable th' closer we got to oor destination which remained withheld from me th' whole journey.

Wance we'd arrived to what for me neist surprise was revealed to be th' head office o' th' Governor o' Port Royal, I simply followed Commander Faye inside wi'oot presentin' any o' those questions which burnt oan me lips efter being' gallantry helped doon from th' carriage as if I was as braw lady as me Mistress. Me swiftly forgettin' these minor oddities concernin' these mens' behavior toward me when I was led to a separate room at th' other side o' th' building instead o' th' room o' Governor Swann. Me keekin' at th' Commander in grave amazement when he opened th' door, revealin' a temporary dressin'room arranged for what I gathered wi' a quick glance, for my use. Two maids standin' up from their chairs, curtseyin' deep due to th' sight o' us.

"You can refresh yourself in here ma'am", Commander Faye informed me, me eyein' at th' maids in disbelief.

"I thought I was supposed to have a meeting wi' yer superior", I remarked, locking gazes wi' th' man's as he nodded in consent. However still beckonin' to th' room, urgin' me to enter.

"Yes, but I'm afraid he has not yet arrived. I'll send someone to inform you once he's had his business settled and he's ready to receive you. You can wait here in the meantime."

I hardly had any say in th' matter as was then pulled inside by th' maids, Commander Faye neist closin' th' door efter me wi' a polite smile regardless o' me objections. Me then findin' meself from a chair, starin' at meself from a mirror as one o' th' maids removed th' remainin' pins still hidden intae me moist hair, where th' other daunered ower to th' closet to pick me a…dress?

"What's goin' oan?" I asked, keekin' at th' maids who only smiled at me, makin' another curtsey when I stood, to eye at th' parlour which could've fit for a lady, which I maist certainly wasn't by birth. Everythin' that had taken place in this last half an hour only addling me.

"We don't have the liberty to tell, Miss", one o' 'em replied in th' same indirect manner as th' Commander had. Me sighin' deep as was again sat doon, th' other servant noo takin' a brush intae 'er haun.

"We were just told to prepare you for the meeting."

"Very weel, fine!" I breathed in surrender, however then jumpin' to me feet juist as she stairted to brush me locks, me snatchin' th' comb from 'er, in turn greatly bafflin' er. "I'll do it meself."

"But Miss, we were told…"

"Forgive me, but I don't care aboot what ye've been told. This is strange enough as it is, so I'll take care o' me ain appearance, thank ye."

Me voice had possibly been that uptight that they didn't argue against then, juist followin' from th' sidelines as I created an coiffure o' some kind, wance again wi'oot askin' any clarifyin' questions dressin' intae th' gown they handed me. Me this time endin' up wearin' a dress made from violet silk, which bodice 'n' sleeves were decorated wi' white lace 'n' small bonnets, as th' bottom layer o' th' skirt was white as weel. A wide ruffle at th' hem bringin' th' garment th' needed fashionable width. But even it unquestionably was a beautiful dress, I couldn't fathom why I'd been made to wear it.

This person I was meetin', did he possibly nae want to see th' people he interrogated to wear rags in his presence? As ridiculous ('n' nae to mention conceited) as that sounded, wouldn't that be rather probable efter encounterin' this bizarre incitement for a makeower?

"You look beautiful Miss", one o' th' maids said soon, wakin' me from me thoughts as I'd forgotten to stare at meself again from a full sized mirror this time. In truth rather charmed by me reflection which didn't keek half bad in that gown 'n' me hair wance again gathered oan top o' me heid neatly, me inclinin' it to th' maid wi' a sigh.

"Thank ye…"

I gasped as somethin' cold noo made contact wi' me skin, me keekin' doon in freish bafflement to see how a diamond necklace was placed aroond me neck, me frownin' at th' reflection o' th' maid responsible o' takin' it oot o' a jewelry box which had rested oan th' dresser neist to me (but which I by no means hadn't intended to open).

"You must look your best, Miss", she explained, me blinkin' in disbelief as she was then aboot to clasp it in place efter a smile. Me however steppin' awa', liftin'up a finger.

"I'm nae wearin' that."

"But Miss…"

"I'm nae puttin' that oan, 'n' that's final. Gosh, what oan earth is happenin' 'ere! Why must I dress up lik' this when th' whole purpose o' this meetin' is possibly…?"

I silenced in middle o' that sentence as efter all was completely clueless o' everythin', eventually only sighin' again 'n' closin' me eyes. Fallin' intae th' nearby sofa. "Forgive me. Ye're juist followin' orders."

"Yes Miss."

I turned to keek at 'em smilin'. "I know what's that lik'."

"How so, Miss?"

"It's nae often that I get to be called "Miss" in such honorable manner."

I waited in that room for half an hour at least. Or possibly an hour, th' time elapsin' extremely slowly when I remained scooped up in that room alone, as th' maids had been called elsewhere nae long efter I'd finished dressin'. Me tappin' me knee in frustration as actual nervousness stairted to gnaw at me, me wance again tryin' to figure oot a reason for why I was 'ere. Could all this be connected to Peter somehow ?

I straightened due to th' fright o' that passin' thought. Had he done somethin' during those months awa' which could've led to both 'im 'n' me to be defriefed by th' maist influential Company o' th' Caribbean, o' th whole world? Th' scariest thing was that I didn't ken. But admitted it to be as possible as anythin' I'd so far come up wi', me hookin' me legs oanto th' sofa when th' wait turned insufferable efter another quarter o' an hour. Nae very ladylik' thing to do mind ye.

"Miss?"

I hastily dropped me feet 'n' smoothed me skirts as th' door opened but a second later, a soldier (nae Commander Faye it seemed) steppin' inside wi' a slight bow, beckonin' to th' corridor.

"My lord Beckett is now ready to receive you."

I wrinkled me eyebrows due to th' sound o' that peculiar name I'd ne'er caught afore in any context, simply presumin' that was th' name o' th' man who'd sent for me. But though th' name didn't ring any bells, th' mentioned title precedin' it caused me to swallow when I rose to me feet wi' a wee nod, daunerin' thro' th' room to th' exit. Th' soldier closin' th' door for me instantly 'n' stairtin' to march along th' corridor in such pace that it almost proved impossible for me to follow wi'oot trippin'. 'N' in fact it was impossible, me eventually getting' frustrated by th' amount o' fabric draped aroond me legs which prevented me from movin' swiftly enough. Me gatherin' me hem intae me arms but dropped it instantly when me gaze abruptly hit oan a familiar figure who juist stepped inside from th' main entrance. Turnin' to me, th' soldier haltin'for another bow as Peter's gaze fell to goup at me bare lower shins wi' risen eyebrows. Amusement in his eyes to witness me evident discomfort to be dressed lik' a rich lass, wi' all th' possible restraints ye could place upoan a woman in a gown.

"So you were brought here too", he noted afore examined me, stairtin' to smile in admiration. "Don't you look different, sis. Though this rather becomes you when I stare at you long enough…"

I shook me heid efter a quick uncomfortable glance at me attire. Then goin' to 'im 'n' takin' his arm as th' same soldier then continued his wey to oor left. Us exchangin' a keek 'til followed wi'oot a word needed to encourage us, me leanin' toward 'im.

"Who cares aboot that? Mair importantly, what's happenin' Peter? Why are we 'ere?" I asked, nervous. "'N' furthermair why have I been dressed this wey if this meeting is indeed what I assume it to be…"

"And what's that?"

"…An interrogation."

Peter was amazed, skeptic. "About what?"

"Ye tell me! Do ye ken anythin'? Have ye done somethin' I should be aware o'?"

"Why do you automatically suspect me to know a reason behind this invite? I have no clue what this is about Miranda, I was just picked up from the garrison half an hour ago, with a word that the Director of the East India Trading Company wished to see me."

I tensed. "Th' Governor o' East India Company?"

Peter nodded, keekin' serious as gazed forward. "So it seems."

I was efter all flabbergasted due to this piece o' news, even I'd understood that th' man I was supposed to meet was apparently pure important to th' Company 'n' had therefore much influence within its ranks. But I hadn't even reconsidered th' possibility that he would be th' Governor itself (though noo wi' hindsight it probably should've been obvious from th' stairt by th' wey Commander Faye had so revelently referred to his "employer" while mentionin' 'im).

"But why?" I wondered. "Ye've ne'er met 'im, have ye?"

"Never had the privilege. And even if I would've that still doesn't explain why both of us were summoned here…"

I thought for anither moment as we noo passed mair guards, positioned close to th' Governor's room we were nearin', me eyes soon risin' to stare forward contemplatively. "I juist cannot comprehend what such an esteemed man would want from us. Except if we've indeed been brought 'ere to be questioned, in which trial I feart this matter to concern Sparrow."

Peter paused for a moment in turn, keekin' at me. "Sparrow? Why would we be asked about him?"

"Weel we cannot actually say nae to ken 'im, can we?"

"Of course we can, as we don't. Just crossed paths with him unwantedly, and that's that. The scroundrel hasn't been seen ever since he escaped, and whoever this Beckett person is, he has no reason to believe us to be an exception."

"But Peter, what else could it be? We've… done nothin'", I breathed, puzzled as eyed at th' floor in worry. But I then felt a tad better when me brother's haun pressed oanto mine to squeeze it, that bein' th' foremaist sign o' actual brotherly care he'd expressed in months.

"I really don't know. But in fact don't feel at all good about this either."

I sighed as that cheeky tone appeared intae his voice to "lighten" me anxiety. Me close rollin' me eyes at 'im as simply directed a bored glance at his smilin' coupon.

"How reassurin' brother, thank ye for that."

"It's alright Miranda. Whatever it is waiting for us in that office, I won't let anything happen to you."

His words actually touched me efter all that time we'd seemed to separate from one another, me sighin' again 'n' noddin' as in turn put me palm ower his. Swallowin' for th' second time.

"Right."

I eyed at the harbor which had quickly been completely taken over by East India Trading Company's vessels in that one morning, several men currently unloading them when my vexed gaze now hit a clock which was hauled toward the tower of the building right in front of us. Lord Beckett's voice causing my expression to turn from annoyed to contemplative as he countered to my previously remarked doubt about the odds required to employ Jack in service of the British Crown.

"Jack Sparrow is a dying breed", he stated as if it was a fact he was about to prove correct, gazing forward with a slight self-assured smile playing on his lips. "The world is shrinking around him, the blank edges of the map filled inn. Jack must find his place in the New World or perish."

I lifted my jaw due to that statement, Beckett's voice radiating such significance that it almost caused me to believe his words to be worth believing, him then soon facing me. Earnest expression taken over his features, all amusement gone.

"Not unlike you, Mr. Turner. You and your fiancée face the hangman's noose."

Once again that same assertive tone, filled with inevitability which I felt to daunt me enough without this man reminding me of the threat of execution hanging above not only me as the true perpetrator in Jack's escape a year ago, but Elizabeth as well. That familiar sense of rage surging back into my veins that instant as I recognized the pungent edge of another kind of threat under that latest sentence which was meant to remind me to obey him at all cost. Or Elizabeth would die. So the arrest warrants now holding us both under Beckett's control, knowing that I indeed had no other choice to save her but to remain oblivious to my contempt for this man who'd ruined my chance to marry her, I smothered my anger. Looking at him.

"So you get both Jack and The Black Pearl", I remarked, piecing together his course of mind from his speech and the deal he'd proposed in exchange of mine and Elizabeth's freedom. Beckett however turning to me for a fleeting moment, squinting and appearing rather surprised at first until my question seemed to but amuse him.

"The Black Pearl?"

"The property you want that he possesses."

I could tell by that fleeting emotion flickering in his eyes that my guess was far from holding true, it baffling me as he next confirmed my presumptions wrong. His lips twitching for another smile which in the end didn't form when seriousness took over him soon after.

"A ship? Hardly. The item in question is considerably smaller than that, and far more valuable, something Sparrow keeps on his person at all times. A compass?"

I tried to appear nonchalant but apparently I was too surprised by his reply (as I was after been finally informed of the subject of my commissioned transaction with Jack). Beckett getting an unwanted response from me as his jaw rose, satisfied expression appearing in his usually vapid irises.

"You know it."

I gazed away in my own ponders as Beckett then leant closer to me, leveling a remarkable stare at me. His following words coming out stressed and ominous, anyone being able to tell that somewhere between the lines there was clear foreboding presage.

"Bring back that compass, or there's no deal. Those are my terms, so before reconsidering an option for you to save both your bride to be and yourself without living up to your end, I remind you that as long as I hold your freedom in my hands I shall do whatever I please with it. And it is completely relative to your actions should Miss. Swann's end in death after long age or to a rope at the end of a drop."

I was filled with terror by the thought of me failing this mission. Such outcome, would it be due to me disobedience or Jack's disinclination to pay back the life threatening debt he owed me, like Beckett had highlighted costing the ultimate price. His penetrating gaze meeting mine with such intensity that I knew for sure that he wasn't lying. Only proving with that resolutely stoic expression that he could do everything that was necessary to claim that compass for himself, Elizabeth's death proving just a small obstacle should I decide to cross him in any way. And that moment more than ever I realized him to be right, that my hands bound like this I couldn't deceive him and was forced to comply, even the idea of me working for this despicable Lord infuriated me. My face probably filling with equal perseverance as I returned his stare.

"You'll have your compass. I'll find Jack and bring him back with me", I reassured, the restrained tone however coming out but compelled, Beckett gauging at me for awhile until straightened. Heading inside.

"Make sure that you do", he answered. "Failure is not an option once you work for the Company. Once you work for me."

I released a frustrated sigh as followed his cue, Beckett returning to his desk and taking out some paperwork. My gaze skimming through them quickly and spotting some information about new types of battleships, (apparently bestowed to a recently discovered ally of the Company), attached to a letter which seal I couldn't quite make out before my short observance came to an end by Beckett's wave of hand.

"Once you've returned to your accommodations Mercer shall hand you a remarkable sum of money which should compensate the inconveniences that shall undoubtedly arise during your mission. But remember, I want that compass to be delivered as soon as possible. His Majesty the King is a patient man to a certain extent when it comes to carrying out executions, but the same cannot be said about me."

"And the Letters?" I questioned, Beckett's gaze rising to me tardily.

"Did you honestly believe me to hand over my only trump card in this arrangement?" he remarked questionably, amused. "No, unfortunately it is my insurance policy, should the other asset in my possession unexpectedly become unavailing…"

I tensed and directed a slight glare at the man, him returning my gaze nothing but calmly until looked back to his documents, soon leaving them aside as went to pour himself another drink.

"Not that I am saying to need such guarantees. But the deal stands, Jack shall have the Letters once the compass has been assigned to me in exchange. Now go, I have another meeting awaiting me…"

I frowned slightly for interest before turned around to exit the office. Another meeting, with who I wonder?

But it was then when familiar voices murmuring at the corridor caught my attention, me coming to abrupt halt as I directed my gaze forward. Only to see how Peter and Miranda walked inside, just like me accompanied by a soldier, the only difference being that they weren't shackled. Them sharing my astonishment when our gazes met for a brief moment, Peter blinking for a few times upon seeing me where Miranda only went stiff, her worried eyes filling with utmost confusion.

"Will, what are you doing here?" Peter asked, baffled. "Aren't you supposed to be getting married right about now?"

I wanted to roll my eyes at his remark. Well there had been certain events that had gotten into the wey of that… But instantly after that thought had surfaced in my mind it caused me to go tense as well, reminding me of something. Something the Scotsman had mentioned last night while visiting me… Could it be…?

"I was", I responded truthfully, Peter making a slow nod as I then sighed deep. My frantically stirring suspicions then getting quickly forgotten by Miranda's eyes which again turned to stare at me after glancing between me, Peter and Beckett. Me holding her gaze for awhile, taking notice of the dress she was wearing (which I knew for a fact her not to own, nor was it the bridesmaid's dress me and Elizabeth had given her, giving me the impression that she after all hadn't planned come to the wedding).

But though she undoubtedly pleased my eye in that gown, somehow it felt really hard to look at her, especially when her apparent noshow created evident dejection in me. Me returning her stare for a few seconds more before turned away from her, the sight of her only bringing back the recollections of our amassed animosities and making me even gloomier from what I already was. Me noticing from the corner of my eye her shoulders to slouch for disappointment when I only looked away in some form of annoyance, her releasing a sigh in turn where I now heard Beckett to place his glass onto the table.

"Mr. Turner has just agreed to aid the Company in a certain urgent matter that cannot remain neglected", he spoke, the muscles under my jaw clenching for disdain. "I've been expecting you, Mr. and Miss. Martins."

I watched him to go straight to Miranda and Peter who greeted him, Miranda somewhat hastily gathering her hem for a curtsey as Beckett returned their courtesy with a bow, lastly placing a light peck on her knuckles. Oddly then eyeing at her hand for awhile.

"Worker's hands but endurable all the same. Nothing that cannot be repaired with time", Beckett remarked, confusing us all but mostly speechless become Miranda. Her inclining her head to Beckett before exchanging a subtle glance with Peter, who looked to me briefly, Beckett then straightening and shaking Peter's hand before next beckoned toward the armchairs placed in front of the fire.

"Excuse me sir, but afore that could ye explain why ye've summoned us 'ere?" Miranda asked, looking to Peter who shared her wonder, me simply frowning at her words in my own confusion as she continued. They were summoned here? Why? "As instructed ye men stayed silent aboot this 'n' we we're only told to gain an explanation once we'd arrived."

"I promise everything shall become clear in a moment", Beckett reassured 'er, Miranda blinking her eyes at his reply as he nodded behind her. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank ye, sir."

Miranda attempted a carefree smile, bending her head as Beckett walked her over to the nearest chair for her dismay, turning it for her where Peter claimed himself a seat from the one siding the window. Sitting down while sending me earnest looks, where Miranda's gaze rounded the room briefly. Me noticing how nervous she in fact was by the look of her clenched hands, her sitting right on the edge of her chair. Eyeing at Beckett warily, as she should, Beckett surprisingly then smiling down at her rather warmly. Something I hadn't seen in these few hours I'd so far known him, and even due to the briefness of our acquaintance such expression didn't feel like suiting him in my opinion. But there he stood, acting all polite and familiar while allowed his gaze to gauge at both of them. Soon making a nod, where I didn't at first turn to look at him as somehow found myself staring at Miranda. The fire creating some intresting hues in her hair…

I then faced Beckett as my lingering stare had gotten caught by Miranda (and me) which had occurred without me realizing, Beckett's voice bringing me back to the present as he'd once again rounded the table to go pour himself yet another scotch. But which I soon found to be meant for Peter who accepted it with a thankful smile, his evaluating irises remaining at Beckett who smiled again, evidently contended for what he was looking at.

"Good posture and manners. Your mother has raised you far better than I expected, considering the distinctly modest ambience available at the time you were born."

This remark confused us even more when Beckett all of a sudden brought up their mother. My mind starting to stir again when I tried to understand how and why Beckett would know about Jane, where Miranda's gaze dropped to stare at the carpet. Her eyebrows briefly wrinkled as she thought a moment herself, soon enough looking back up to Beckett rather seriously. Demanding even, and once more I found myself to briefly admire that persistence which visited her eyes.

"Excuse me bluntness sir, but could ye please explain what is the meaning o' all this? How do ye ken oor maw, 'n' what does she have to do wi' ye summoning us 'ere to be questioned?"

Peter was now staring at Beckett as well, so grave expression taken over his features that he looked like jumping to his feet and accosting answers by grasping Beckett from his collar (as was after all his rather usual habit). But Beckett only smiled then in great amusement, returning both his and Miranda's earnest gazes with a polite one.

"Questioned, no. To become acquainted would be the term I'd use", he corrected, causing me to narrow my eyes and almost speak up, to ask what he meant by that. Peter and Miranda simply gawking at him in astonishment, not either fathoming the true meaning behind that turn of phrase when Beckett then reclaimed his own drink from where he'd abandoned it earlier. Taking a sip as all of us then followed him walk all the way behind the writing desk, directing our gazes up to see a painting on the wall which had been covered with a cloth (and which apparently had replaced the portrait of Governor Swann). Beckett then lifting his hand and jerking the cover away with one yank, our breaths getting caught into our throats when we were now staring at the revealed portrait of a person we all knew, me turning around in utmost bafflement. To see the way Miranda's eyes widened for shock, Peter almost dropping his glass and drenching his breeches for surprise. Beckett eyeing at the painting a smile on his lips.

"Imagine that after all these years of searching, I am finally standing here, being able to meet the children of Jane. The son and daughter of my beloved sister."

* hauf' (a measure of whiskey)

Discliamer: I own nothing but my own characters and additions to the original plot.

Scottish words:

Pronouns etc:

o'= of, th'= the, 'em= them, oor= our, 'n'= and, intae= into, 'er= her, 'im= him, me=my, ontae=onto, tae = to, sae = so, fur = for, naw = no, nae = not, oan = on,

4 chap:

wey = way, wee= little/small, wi' = with, wi'oot = without, efter = after, meself = myself, hert = heart, aboot = about, stairt = start, lik' = like, juist = just, 'em = them, weel = well, ken = to know, ain = own, awa' = away, heid= head, afore = before, freish = new, coupon = face, face = expression, aff = off, ye = you, noo = now, to keek = to look, 'ere = here, thro' = through, utmaist = utmost, aroond = around, doon = down, haun = hand, dauner = walk, atween = between, neist = next, guid = good, th'morra = tomorrow, 'til = until, feart = scared/afraid, anither = another, muckle = much, 'erself = herself, o' coorse = of course, wance mair = once more, awright = alright, ne'er, goup = stare, 'greed = agreed, A'm = I am, mak' = make, to luv= to love, pure = very, cannae = cannot, foremaist = first, swallae = alcohol, a tumbler = a glass, git = get, granda= grandfather, thay = they, tak' = take, trial = case, cannie = smart, jimmy = a man, bairn = child, een = eyes, stoatin = wonderful etc, ower = rather, bade = stay, didnae = didn't, maw = mother, feartie-cat= coward, to jalouse = to guess