Chapter 2: Plunder from the Pearl

Next morning she woke up and fed Jacob, then put him on a blanket with a couple of toys to amuse him while she unpacked the loot. Mr Gibbs had made a little rag-doll of a puppy, and Pintel-and-Ragetti had sent a crude carving of the Pearl, and Cotton had made a shuttlecock out of parrot feathers. Marty's gift was by far the nicest: he had whittled a wooden flute, and carved it very intricately with vines. Three birds sat among the vines, and Elizabeth smiled with a lump in her throat when she saw them: a parrot, a swan, and a sparrow. Apparently Marty wanted her to think of the Pearl every time she played it.

The rest of the plunder, for it could be nothing else, had to be compliments of Jack. She laughed when she unpacked a bag of clothes and found not only two dresses but some trousers, shirts, and coats—all in her size. "He knows me too well," she muttered to herself as she went to hang them up. Having got used to the freedom of trousers, she found it hard to go back to dresses and corsets. Not to mention that corsets were near-impossible to put on without a ladies' maid, and were still painful and inconvenient to wear.

And ah, there was the rum. Three full bottles of it, along with two bottles of some very good red wine and a bottle of white. "Does he think I do nothing but drink?" she asked her son, who was trying earnestly to roll over.

There was also a large bag of flour, one of sugar, and another of apples. "Well, we certainly won't starve, will we, Jacob?" she asked him. "I hope you don't mind apple pie, because it looks as if that's all I'll be making for the next month!"

The gift from Jack himself was a handsome silver rattle, Elizabeth shook it. It didn't sound like beads or pebbles inside. Sand, perhaps. It gave a shushing sound, like waves lapping on the sand. She liked it.

She put away the rest of the "swag" and went and got Jacob, who had managed to roll onto his side and was looking astonished at himself. She picked him up and cuddled him. "So how did you like meeting your Uncle Jack last night?" she asked him, not noticing that she had picked up on Jack's way of referring to himself. When she heard herself, she only laughed ruefully. Jack had a way of insinuating himself when you least expected it.

And it had been good to see him. Elizabeth had only a few acquaintances in the village, including Mrs Thomas Hound, the midwife. Elizabeth had no idea what her first name was; everyone in the village just called her Mrs Thomas. Her husband, Thomas Hound, they just called Hound. Elizabeth had met him once and been unimpressed, but she and Mrs Thomas maintained a cordial, if formal, relationship. On days that brought her into the village for shopping, she and the midwife would sip tea and call each Mrs Thomas and Mrs Turner. Aside from that, she didn't really socialize with anyone else. As a governor's daughter she didn't fit in with the working-class population of the village, and as a former pirate, her behavior was a little too free and scandalous for the sensibilities of her neighbors. Mrs Thomas, however, had helped to deliver little Jacob, and Elizabeth's being a pirate didn't bother her; in fact, Mrs Thomas had been impressed by Elizabeth's sailor-like vocabulary during labor. It was their secret.

The next month, during the full moon when he could easily see to make his way up the hill from the beach, Jack showed up again in her bedroom. He brought a pair of men's boots in her size, and a bottle of rum. The month after that, he brought Gibbs along with him-that time, he knocked on her bedroom shutters and then went around to the front door. The next month he brought along Marty, his small, bald gunner, and did the same thing. Marty brought her a new baby blanket.

The next month, Jack came alone again, so he just used the bedroom window as a door, and she started to sense that once again there was a stranger in her room. She woke up with a start, reaching for her dagger, until she realized it was him. She growled and threw her pillow at him. "Would it kill you to use the door?"

He laughed, gold teeth glinting in the moonlight streaming in from the open shutter. "And deny myself the chance to see you in your nightgown, dearie? Perish the thought. Besides, I like that little panicked gasp you make when you first wake up an' realize I'm here." He came over to the bed and snapped his fingers impatiently. "Come on, let's get the lamp lit, love. Hurry up, now. I have to see my nevvie, and I don't have all night."

Sighing, Elizabeth lit the lamp and Jack bounded over to the cot where Jacob lay sleeping but starting to stir. "Hey there, Master Jake. You going to wake up and say hello to your Uncle Jack?" He leaned over and picked up the baby, bringing him over to Elizabeth's bed as he did every time, so he could see him in the light. He scrutinized the child's face.

"Your looks are improving," he informed the baby. "Lucky thing you take after your mum there, eh? Shouldn't wonder if old dad's starting to get tentacle-ey by now. Wouldn't want to look like him, no, sir! Pity you're not mine, though. I've a very 'andsome face, so I have. Lot better than your old dad's."

"Jack!" Elizabeth scolded, smacking him on the arm.

He turned his kohled, wounded-looking eyes in her direction. "Wot? I suppose you've been telling him lies about how good looking his father is?" He tsked. "Mustn't fib, love."

The baby scrunched up his little face and started to cry.

"The disposition, though—that's definitely Will's," Jack grinned, handing the child to Elizabeth. "Always whining. I'll just be out 'ere while you, uh…" he gestured grandly towards her chest. "…Tend to matters there." He went into the other room and shut the door.

Elizabeth chuckled as she opened her nightgown to feed her son, gasping slightly as he latched on, then relaxing as he settled in to nurse. Jack certainly livened up her humdrum life! She had to admit she was glad to see him, even if he did scare her half to death every time he showed up for a midnight visit. She enjoyed spending time just bantering back and forth in her sitting room in the middle of the night—in a way, it made her less "homesick" for the life of a pirate. He stayed longer that time, and Elizabeth was sad to see him leave when dawn streaked across the sky.

She took advantage of his invitation to write to him, and sent him brief notes asking for some things she couldn't get in the village—some linen fabric for some clothes, and some tools for doing general household repairs. He must have checked his mail often, for he always brought it and wouldn't let her pay him for them.

"Come now, Jack, that's very un-piratical of you! Take the money!"

"Not going to take your money, love. Don't worry, though. I have the proper payment in mind." He leered at her, laughing when she punched him on the arm. "Darling, what a naughty mind you do have! All I meant was that I'm storing it all up in case I need a really big favor from you someday! What can you possibly have been thinking, Lizzie dear?"

A few more months went by, and Elizabeth looked forward to his visits more and more. He was impressed with little Jacob's development—Jacob was sitting up now, for short periods anyway—and his rate of growth.