Disclaimer: I own no part of Pirates of the Caribbean. Original characters and plots are owned by me.

Chapter 27 - Matthew

Before we disembarked in Tortuga, I had another matter of business to conclude - one in which Hector had shown a keen and proprietary interest. During our journey, I had written out a bill for my Messenger's expenses and composed a suitably vague narrative to go with it.

Hector had made his opinion clear. "That blasted Hervey owes me money fer me ship an' the gold he promised ye! Get every penny ye can."

Now that it was finished, I showed him my report. It asked for a great deal of money, and read in part:

"Per the King's orders, I went with Mr Norrington to Tortuga where he secured a ship to replace the Berwick. Taking me and the Spanish priest, he sailed to an island known only to himself. Here his crew dug up a quantity of gold and a strange tablet which he said was the object of his search. Then he commenced a heated argument on deck with the Spanish priest which ended with both men receiving mortal wounds.

With Mr Norrington no longer in command, the crew seized both ship and gold, abandoning me in a longboat with no provisions. After several days, I was very ill and prayed for Death to end my sufferings. But Fortune had one more hand to play, and I was sighted by a pirate ship belonging to Captain Jack Sparrow, who rescued me. From him I heard that Mr Norrington's mutinous crew was later attacked and their ship sunk by a Spanish man o' war.

At present I am much out of health, and it will be some months before I am fit for travel. Enclosed you will find my expenses for this errand, since (contrary to what you anticipated) I got no gold from Mr Norrington."

He looked it over with a hard expression and half-closed eyes. Once the corner of his mouth twitched. When he had finished, he gave it back with a quick nod. "That should do the trick."

I posted it all to Lord Hervey, and then we set out for the Faithful Bride to meet Rufus and Elizabeth-now the proud mother of a baby boy. We spent a pleasant hour exchanging news with our friends over a fine meal, and then Rufus handed over the duffel I had left with him.

"What's t' do now?" he asked. "With no ship, an' a baby comin'?"

Hector jutted his chin proudly. "While I be seekin' a proper ship, I'm thinkin' of takin' a house, so's I can engage a physician fer the lyin'-in."

I lifted an eyebrow, but Rufus nodded approvingly. "Come t' St Thomas," he said. "Many a gentleman o' fortune lives there."

Elizabeth turned to me at once. "And Rufus or Jen could manage the lying-in for you."

"Ais, Jen d' have a knack wi' babies," Rufus agreed. He turned to Hector. "If ye be away when the maidy's pains come, ye needn't worry a jot. We'd be that glad t' help 'ur."

- 0 -

A fortnight later on a sunny day in June, we settled upon a small, furnished brick house with green shutters overlooking the harbour in St Thomas. Its owner was a Dutch merchant who had returned to Amsterdam and was anxious to let the premises. The house was planned about a central passageway with wide, inviting stairs that led to a spacious landing and thence to the comfortable upstairs rooms. Although I intended to go back to sea as soon as possible, I warmed to this charming house.

On our first day as tenants, I slipped away unnoticed to our bedroom. Closing the door behind me, I set my duffel upon the bed and began rummaging through its contents. Firstly, I found my wedding band and slid it onto my finger. Then, sifting through half a dozen books, I drew out the little Spanish journal that I now recognised as Ponce de Leon's log.

Frowning, I riffled its pages and then scanned each one methodically. But there was no denying what I had feared all along: the entries stopped at Cuidad Blanca. There was no record of the Santiago's arrival at the Fountain.

Had the old conquistador ceased keeping a log? My instincts told me he had not, but I had seen no other book in Ponce de Leon's quarters. Then Jeremy's words came back to me.

Two journals, he had said. Two journals, stolen -according to rumour-by Edward Teague and Harry Bitter.

I looked at the book in my hand, given me by Teague when he took me from Highcliffe more than ten years ago. "Dear life, it must be true," I whispered. "They did steal those journals."

All the puzzle pieces fitted together. It must have been a secret commission for Harry, who brought his cousin along as he often did. They had got the journals, read them, and decided the power of the Ritual was too dangerous to be revealed. But if there were two, why had Teague given me only one?

Where was the second?

A cold, creeping tension squeezed the air from my chest as something else occurred to me: Captain Harry had been returning from London when he was killed-was his business there related to the Fountain?

I forced myself to breathe, to swallow. Whatever the answers might be, they would not bring back Harry Bitter, and in a few months I would bring a baby into the world. Until then, I resolved to throttle my feelings of unease. For the present time, there was one volume in my possession and my duty was clear.

Despite the summer weather, I lit a fire and waited patiently in the sweltering room. When I judged the flames hot enough, I tossed the book straight into them.

As the fire did its work, I gripped the poker tightly, jabbing at the book as if driving a sword through its heart, breaking up even the tiniest fragments. When the last scrap of paper had burnt to ashes, the weight on my shoulders eased a bit and I put the poker back in its stand.

Familiar boots sounded on the stairs. A moment later, Hector opened the door and peered in.

"What ails ye? Why'd ye need a fire on a day like-Ah!" His sharp eyes went to the little heap of ashes.

"I've burnt Ponce de Leon's log," I said, twisting the ring on my finger. "Remember you promised not to tell Jack-we have an accord."

He grunted acquiescence, then looked suspiciously at my hand. "Why are ye wearin' that? Ye agreed our marriage were to be clandestine."

"Secret it is, and secret it shall remain," I replied. "We're miles from anyone who could cause trouble - why should I not wear it? And in any case, the real proof is written here." I held up Teague's log. "I keep it safe, never to be registered...unless someday you wish it."

He made no reply, and there was an awkward pause between us.

My spirits fell with a suddenness that caught me by surprise, and I thought the world very sad indeed. I shrugged through a mist of irrational tears. "Well... if you don't, then perhaps you'd better burn it."

He looked astonished at my sudden show of melancholy. "Easy, missus, easy," he said in a soothing tone. "I'd sooner burn me own hand off."

I wiped my eyes impatiently. "By the devil! Why am I so inclined to tears and temper lately?"

He gathered me in his arms and held me against his chest. "Ye know there be consequences to makin' this marriage official," he murmured. "And ye know-or ye should know-where me heart lies."

"I do know," I replied, embarrassed. "Apologies, my love. You must think-oh!"

Startled, he held me by the shoulders, then a wide grin spread across his face. He placed a hand on my belly and gave a hearty chuckle. "There he is, the little buffer! Kickin' ye good, is he? I'll have a word or two t' say to him later!"

I began to laugh. "And if you get a daughter instead?"

"Well..." He seemed to struggle with the idea for a moment before his confident manner asserted itself. "We'll know soon enough, won't we? But I ain't here t' bandy words about the baby—I came t' tell ye I found a likely ship fer yer smugglin' venture."

"What sort of a ship is she?"

"Only a lugger, but she'll do, at least fer now." He` offered me his arm. "Come along t' the dock an' take a gander."

"Does she have a name?"

"Aye, the Andromeda."

- 0 -

The Andromeda proved an excellent ship for the smuggling trade. Elizabeth, Rufus and I managed a few short runs with cargos of brandy, but my confinement soon slowed our efforts.

As my time drew near, Rufus' daughter Jen would visit me two or three times a week, making sure I was in health, and guessing what day her services would be needed. She was a pleasant, capable woman whose smile reminded me of Rufus and made me wonder what family resemblance I might find in my baby.

Each night, when we were abed and Hector asleep, I would lie awake and guess. Lad or lass? Auburn haired, or fair? Possibly an infant version of Hector, with red hair and sharp blue eyes. Unless the baby had raven hair and dark eyes like the Teagues. Or the ashy blonde locks of the Bitters. I often thought of Marianne Bitter, and of my grandmother, Grace Anna Teague. One awful midnight, a vivid memory of my uncle Hanibal jolted me out of sleep. I fretted and paced the floor until Hector opened one eye and ordered me back to bed.

I obliged, but lay awake long afterwards, peering into the dark with one hand on my belly and a silent question on my lips: who are you, little one? Who are you?

- 0 –

On a crisp autumn day, I awoke with a terrible pain, as if the Kraken had slithered up through the mattress and seized me about the waist. Hector had risen and left the house early, and so was spared my groans and curses. How long it all lasted I couldn't tell, but I was relieved when it stopped.

I sent a message to Jen at once.

Although it seemed to me that the baby would arrive within minutes, the pain had ceased completely. After a short while, Rufus and Jen joined me, and I described the twisting and squeezing agony.

Jen smiled broadly. "'Tis yer time. I suspicioned it yesterday. There be hours to go yet, but I reckon you'll get yer first look at the little 'un sometime today."

Rufus nodded agreement and said: "This afternoon, I think. Eh, Jen?"

We three were chatting easily until Hector rushed in, having discovered that the long-awaited event was finally underway. As we continued talking, Hector strode up and down the room, darting sharp glances at me.

"I beg you to leave off pacing!" I implored him. "You look as if you're waiting for the mail coach!" But he remained agitated, refusing to sit or even stand still, and as I felt the beginnings of my next pain, I was mightily inclined to throw something at his head.

"By the powers-" I gasped. I would have made known much more of my feelings, but found I couldn't breathe for the pressure that suddenly gripped me.

At last Rufus stepped in. "Tes hours yet," he assured Hector with a sidelong look at me. "I be minded to step round t' the Three Tides fer a drop or two. Why don't ye come along o' me? The chiel won't come 'til supper time."

Hector narrowed his eyes. "I might hold ye t' that." But Rufus eventually persuaded him that matters were well in hand, and the two pirates departed.

As soon as the downstairs door banged shut, Jen said, "Father knaws Captain can't help 'ee. Just as well if he be elsewhere." She poured a bit of brandy for me as we waited for my next bout.

I sipped the drink nervously. "Jen, can I...can I truly do this?"

She laughed. "Tes too late t' be askin' now!" Patting my hand, she added: "There be naught t' fear. Don't 'ee worry a inch!"

I cleared my throat. "I never really -I mean, it just doesn't seem possible, somehow."

"Twill be over before ye knaws it," she said, "and ye namin' yer first little mite!"

"It'll be Matthew or India," I told her.

At least this point had been settled with Hector. He had opposed 'Jack', as I expected. But when I suggested 'Matthew', he had considered. "That be yer grandfather, the viscount?"

When I nodded, he quickly agreed to call the baby Matthew. He was somewhat less particular about choosing a female name, and went along with my wish to call our daughter India, because we had met in the Indies.

Yet now, staring down at my half-empty glass, I felt terribly uncertain, as though I were speaking of someone else's life. I even wondered if, when all was said and done, Hector would like the baby. Would I, myself, like the baby?

Over the next several hours, the pains became stronger and more frequent, until they seemed nearly continuous. Jen reassured me as one of her daughters rushed up and down the stairs bringing herbal potions and later a pail of hot water. Between my pains and following Jen's orders to push, I had no other thought except the hope that all would be over soon. At last, after a tremendous effort, there was a change. My body relaxed, and Jen allowed me to recline. I stared at the ceiling, wondering what sort of giant I had delivered. There was laughter and conversation between Jen and her daughter, and then a new sound that thrilled my heart-a baby's thin cries!

"I want to see!" I demanded, exhausted but struggling to get up.

"Easy, dear," Jen replied. "I'll bring the baby to ye. What did ye say the names were?"

"Matthew or India," I mumbled.

Then I heard her say, "Swill 'im a bit afore she sees 'im."

My heart gave a leap. "Did you say him?"

"I did indeed," she replied. "Ye've got the Captain a little lad! Here's Matthew!"

She laid a small bundle upon my stomach and stepped back.

I raised my head and felt breathless. A perfect little face with large, wonder-filled blue eyes was gazing at me.

Unable to trust my voice, I gathered him carefully into my arms. We stared at each other, and I must have entered a sort of trance, forgetting that there was anyone else in the room. It was like falling in love.

After a few minutes, Jen put him in swaddling, then laid him down again, close beside me, as the floor rattled with the sound of Hector's boots thumping up the stairs.

There was a rising clamour of voices downstairs as a crowd of pirates pushed into the lower hallway. I braced myself for an invasion, but Hector entered the room unaccompanied, save by an odiferous cloud of rum and tobacco.

I smiled up at him as he stood over Matthew and me, and though he returned my loving look, his eyes were on Matthew. He folded back the swaddling and inspected the baby for a moment, then his mouth widened into a broad grin.

Suddenly he scooped up his son with both hands and, hoisting him up in the air, declared: "Welcome t' the world, Matthew Barbossa!"

Matthew turned red and let out a roar, and Hector burst out laughing.

"Listen to the lusty little tacker!" he exclaimed. "You've got yer daddy's voice, don't ye?"

He tucked Matthew into the crook of his arm and leant over to give me a loving, emphatic kiss. Then he made for the door as Jen scrambled after them, remonstrating about the baby's need for peace and quiet.

"There's no stopping him," I murmured to no one in particular. And indeed Hector went straight out to the hallway, where I heard the pirates giving three cheers as he presented them with his new son.

After the first uproar, the voices gradually quietened as our visitors drifted away in small groups. When the last boisterous pirate had departed, Hector returned and sat on the bed, holding Matthew.

Jen withdrew, discreetly shutting the door behind her.

I raised my arms to receive the baby, but Hector shook his head with a smile. "Ye need a bit o' rest – ye've earned it."

There was no denying my utter exhaustion. "Just for a bit then," I murmured, and let my arms fall back by my sides. In less than a minute, I was sound asleep.

An hour or so later, I became drowsily aware of the room once more. The sky outside had darkened as night came on, and in the shadows I could make out Hector in an armchair rocking Matthew and singing something quietly in his deep, rumbling voice. I frowned and listened to the words.

What will they do with a drunken sailor, what will they do with a drunken sailor, what will they do with a drunken sailor, early in the mornin'...

I suppose I should have expected no less. I made a mental note to teach Hector a few more suitable lullabies, but sleep returned before I could summon the will to move.

Later I awakened again, to the sound of someone else's voice singing an old lullaby from my childhood. I half opened my eyes and saw Jen seated in a chair, rocking the baby. My fierce, moody father sat nearby with his guitar, softly singing the same ballad for his grandson as he had done for his daughter, "Spanish Ladies".

- 0 –

Some days later, Hector and I were enjoying a rare few moments of tranquility in the front room, when a familiar voice broke the peace of our morning.

"Apologies for not droppin' by sooner, love. Celebratory overindulgences arose, ensued and were dealt with."

"Apologies accepted, dear," I said quickly, before Hector could start a fight. "Lovely to see you."

Jack swayed into the room with a sparking smile that faded as his eyes darted here and there. "I was told there was a baby about..."

"Ah! That would be Matthew," I said. "I couldn't get his swaddling right, so Jen's fixing it. He'll be back presently."

"Oh! Well, that's alright then." He grinned confidently and held up a letter. "In the meantime, I've brought you this. It came to the Pearl for some reason-"

"'Some reason? Meanin' ye took it," Hector snorted.

I broke the seal and unfolded the letter. "It's from Lord Hervey." Hector leaned over me as I read. Lord Hervey declared himself well pleased with me, complimenting my "success under trying circumstances". The last sentence read "I shall expect great things from you in the future."

"Flattery, t' lure ye back," Hector commented. "Don't let it go t' yer head." He took the letter from me as I basked in Lord Hervey's approval. At last I had established myself as a Messenger.

Hector scowled at the letter and abruptly demanded: "Where d' ye think yer goin, Sparrow?"

Jack had been edging towards the door, but froze.

"What about this?" Hector began to read: "I enclose yer money an' hope ye recall what I told ye, that the powerful will pay fer intelligence." He glared at Jack. "Where be the money?"

Jack assumed a look of sudden recollection, and produced a bank note from his coat pocket. "Ah! There it is! Wasn't sure where it had gone..."

Hector snatched the note. "That's half - I'll have the rest of her money too." He indicated the corner of another note in Jack's other pocket.

Jack handed over the note with a show of offended dignity. "I'll have you know I merely intended to redeem them for you at the Bank of England," he explained, "assuming you prefer gold instead of paper. Someone's got to take 'em to London."

Hector snorted. "Very likely. We'll see to that in good time. Fer now, I'll keep 'em." He strode out of the room, no doubt in search of a secure hiding place.

Jack quickly slid into a chair beside me and pulled Sao Feng's map from his waistcoat. "Sorry, love, but I had to show you this without your dearly beloved. Look-there's been a change!"

I stared at the spot he indicated. My heart made an anxious little leap, but there was no mistaking what I saw. Something new had been added; one island now bore a tiny, inky representation of a ship on cliffs. A caravel.

After a strained silence in which I tried not to betray my agitation, I finally said: "I don't suppose you have any idea where this island is?"

"Not yet," he said, rolling up the map and putting it away.

"Here he is!" Jen's cheerful voice announced Matthew's return.

Jack quickly intercepted her. "Ta, love. We'll take it from here." He sat down with Matthew in his arms as Jen withdrew.

"Nice work, darlin'," Jack said with a look of relief. "He's the spit of Harry - a real Bitter, savvy? Not a trace of the other side of the family." He winked at me, then studied Matthew for a moment. "Poor little mite-look how she's got him all bound up! He wants his freedom, don' ee?"

"Don't-" I started to say, but Jack was too quick for me.

He had the swaddling off in an instant, and Matthew commenced screaming at the top of his lungs.

"It keeps them calm!" I shouted over the noise, feeling as though I could use a bit of swaddling myself.

After a few hasty efforts to replace the swaddling, Jack gave up and handed Matthew to me. "Oh, look! He wants his mother! Must run..."

He departed speedily, almost colliding with Jen as she rushed in to help me with Matthew.

"Not much fer visitin', is ee?" she commented with a nod towards the door.

"He is a pirate, after all. Adventure beckons." As I spoke, I looked down at Matthew and wondered half apprehensively what his life would be. "What do you think, Matthew? Wouldn't you like a quieter life instead?"

He seized my finger in his tiny fist and laughed. Then I recalled the way Jack had described me long ago. Brought up by an adventurer, to be an adventurer. That was how we would raise our son. There really was no other way.

"Never you mind, love," I said to Matthew. "There are worse fates."

Epilogue – The future calls.