Chapter 17: A Gentleman's Business
Peggy sat on the plush bed, staring blankly at the room around her.
This was a beautiful room, to be sure. A comfortable bed decked out in the finest silk and linens, with a headboard and frame made from the finest wood. Gauzy curtains hung around her, blocking the flies from entering and bothering her sleeping space.
In one corner of the room, there was a small but ornate writing desk, bookshelves, and a wardrobe along the other wall. Before the bed, in a massive open space, there was a small circular table with a couple of chairs and a chaise.
It was the perfect room for a young lady of noble birth, but Peggy would prefer to sleep in her tiny nook on the Pearl. She missed the firm mattress with the dip in the right spot and the smell of the ocean outside her window as the waves gently rocked the ship like a cradle.
This was too soft. Too cushy…too lavish.
It was a perfect prison for someone like her, and Peggy had been a resident of a few brigs in her short stint as a pirate.
She grimaced in pain, gripping her right wrist, which was covered in a bandage to hide the painfully tingling mark. It seemed far more agitated for some reason, as if hot knives were poking and cutting into the skin. When she had taken a peek at the mark last night, the ink had somehow seemed a lot darker than before, and was it just her, or had it spread even further through her veins?
But why? What had she done? She still had a few weeks till she had to go back to the Devil.
Or was he just in the mood to torture her further? He always was sadistic.
Well, perhaps that would be preferable to the torment she would face being stuck playing her birth father's prisoner daughter.
She looked down at the dress she now wore. It was made from light blue silk, over which she had tied the blue sash Will had saved around her waist. Mercer, who had been tasked with ensuring her captivity, had practically threatened her into the dress, but she had managed to persuade the maid to let her keep the sash. However, they had to tie it in a feminine bow around her waist to make it work with the whole ensemble.
Now, all Peggy had to do was sit and wait till her father called for her like a dog.
She hated it.
She had done a round of her rooms and discovered all the windows had been barred or locked. Not only that, but she had been placed on the third floor of the building, so even if she wanted to get out, she'd have to jump off the balcony or risk climbing down the thin and flimsy-looking ivy that grew along one of the walls outside. Not even she would survive that drop without either killing or maiming herself. The only way in or out was through that front door, and she doubted her guards would let her get the jump on them a second time.
There was a knock on her door, and she quickly looked up, nostrils flaring as she saw Sloane striding in. He was dressed smartly today in a black coat and breeches, a dark turquoise vest, and a small, pleasant smile as he beheld her form.
Well, it would have been pleasant, but to Peggy, the expression almost made her want to throw up. Gods, this man's smile was unflappable. It would have been almost admirable if it were not so irritating.
"My Lady." He smiled, and Peggy bristled at the address. Was he trying to get on her good side now? Good luck with that. "Your father has requested your presence in his study."
"Of course he has." Peggy rolled her eyes as she stood up and dusted off her skirts.
"That dress looks lovely on you." Sloane smiled with genuine admiration as he held out his arm for her to take.
Peggy, however, did not take the preferred limb, choosing instead to glower at it with venom until he hastily dropped it.
"My Lady," He sighed, and for the first time, Peggy swore she saw some exasperation in his green eyes. "I know our first meeting was less than ideal, and I have already apologised for it-"
"And you think an apology will wipe the slate clean by magic?" Peggy grunted mulishly. "You think that kidnapping me and taking me prisoner would not piss me off?"
"My Lady, you are not a prisoner here," Sloane said calmly and patiently as if trying to calm a tantrum-throwing child. "However, given your recent hostile behaviour, my Lord Beckett is forced to take certain measures to ensure your safety-"
"And his." Peggy scoffed.
"-Personally, though, I do not consider you a prisoner." Sloane continued, ignoring her statement. "I understand the circumstances of your return to Lord Beckett's life are rather tumultuous and unfortunate, and I understand your anger. It is more than justified. However, whatever your experiences and feelings about the situation, you are still the lady of this house and-"
"I have a younger sister-"
"She is merely a child." Sloane shook his head "A sweet, lovely child. But a child nonetheless. You are my Lord's eldest, and I shall continue to treat you with the respect you are owed even through your scorn. I only ask that you try to find it in your heart to forgive me. I was only acting on orders." He reached out, and before she could pull away, he picked up her hand, pressed a chaste kiss on her knuckles and offered her a small gentlemanly bow.
"Funny." Peggy grimaced, cursing herself as she felt her cheeks warm slightly. He was persistent she'd give him that. "But how many men have justified their actions by making the same excuse?"
"Too many." Sloane agreed, releasing her hand and offering his arm to her again. "I know you are going through a lot right now, but I was given orders to bring you to your father by whatever means necessary. I'd much rather you come off your volition than force you to submit."
"You think a lot of yourself if you could ever force me." Peggy sniffed but took the proffered limb with a careful grip. "Whatever, I'm too tired to argue with you. Let's get this over and done with. The sooner I talk to my father, the sooner I can get away from the bloody lot of you."
"I don't know about that, my Lady." Sloane grinned as he led her down the corridor. "Something tells me you'll be very interested in what he says today."
Will Turner stared at the door to Lord Cutler Beckett's office.
He had never been to the EITC headquarters of Port Royal before. The building was usually closed off to the public and often left vacant, with minimal staff helping with the upkeep and security. Merchants and officers came and went as businessmen for the company passed through the port, but it lacked the warmth of a constant occupant. Occasionally, you'd hear of a lavish party being held on the premises by one of the merchants from the company, but those were few and far between.
It starkly contrasted with the dreary Fort Charles's cells, where he had spent what was supposed to be his wedding night alone. Poor Elizabeth had been in the cell farthest from him, where he could not see her. Neither had been allowed to change from their wedding attire, though any sharp objects like Elizabeth's hairpins or brooch had been confiscated and returned to her father for fear of being used as a lockpick.
Peggy, meanwhile, had been brought here to the EITC Headquarters. According to the Governor, who had been forced to confer with Lord Beckett about state affairs of Port Royal, Peggy and her sister (since when did she have a sister? Will thought to himself.) were to be given their own suites and ladies maids and was to be treated with the same amount of respect as any other noble-born lady on the island.
Peg must be seething. And poor Elizabeth…she must be so sore after a night in that cell. I hope she hasn't caught a chill or hurt herself. Will mused with a small sigh, only for his ears to perk up as he heard a small mewing from behind him and a young girl's voice call out:
"Orion! No! Don't go under there!"
Will turned his head and was surprised by seeing a young girl, no more than twelve or thirteen years old, kneeling on the floor with her arms stretched under a nearby cabinet that lined the hall. She had long dark brown curlstied in twin braids, one draped over each shoulder andpale skin. She wore a pretty white dress with pink flowers embroidered around the bodice and skirt, the sleeve of which got scratched as she pulled out a very reluctant and enormous fluffy white cat with big yellow eyes. The feline glowered at Will with morose disdain as his young mistress secured him back on a leash made from a long ribbon.
Wait, "Lady" Katrina? This must be Peggy's sister, Will wondered as the young girl's face finally came into view. The first thing Will noticed was the eyes, which were the same shape and blue-grey colour as Peggy's. However, where Peggy was a fierce and wild child, Katrina was far more delicate and innocent-looking. This girl was used to playing with dolls and reading rather than leaping about with a sword and scrubbing dirty linen.
Still, there was some spark in her gaze as she stood to her feet and caught sight of Will and his guards standing by the door. She squinted at him, her eyes flickering with curiosity over his red-coated guards as she tried to discern their purpose.
"Lady Katrina, you should let a servant handle that!" an older woman in a dark red dress, a governess from her looks, chided as she dashed up to the young girl. "You know your father doesn't like you ruining your dresses."
Young Katrina pouted irritably, and Will felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a fond smile. He couldn't help it. The expression was nearly identical to Peggy's when she was that age.
"Come, my dear. Your father said he'll call for you when he's ready." The Governess stiffened upon catching sight of the armed officers and their prisoner.
"But he said my sister Margaret was with him." Katrina looked up pleadingly at her governess. "I still haven't seen her yet! I want to ask her how she managed to survive that storm-"
"I'm sure she'll tell you all about it later. But we must be patient." The Governess sighed tiredly, and Will knew from experience how exhausting it could be herding such a stubborn girl from her goal. "Now come along. We shouldn't be here with this riff-raff."
Will snorted at the woman's disapproving scoff and quickly looked away to avoid her disapproving gaze.
"He doesn't look like riff-raff," Katrina mumbled as she and her cat Orion were escorted away. Glancing back over her shoulder at Will, her curiosity still peaked despite her Governess's best attempts to sneer down her nose at him as if he were a common drunkard off the street.
So, she was one of those noble-born? He supposed it made sense, given the nature of her employer. As for Katrina, she seemed a sweet girl. How a cold man like Lord Beckett produced two such warm and lively girls was a mystery to Will. He vaguely wondered what Peggy would make of her sister. She would not be cruel to the girl he knew, but it had to be awkward meeting a half-sibling from a man who so clearly despised her.
"He's ready for you, " a servant nodded to the officers, and Will's attention was brought back to his situation as he was led through the doors before him.
Lord Beckett's office was a lavish room decorated with many trinkets and works of art. Along one massive wall, a cartographer painstakingly painted a map of the known world on a small ladder. Will almost had to stop to admire the artist's work. It would be an impressive feature wall, to be sure.
However, his attention was drawn to the two figures standing in the room. One was Lord Cutler Beckett, dressed today in another brown ensemble, with his powdered wig pulled back by a black ribbon. The other was Peggy, though she looked far more polished than he had ever seen her.
She wore a pastel-blue silk dress with copper curls pulled back elegantly into a low chignon bun. The blue sash from Tortuga had been tied around her waist in a pretty bow. Over her breast, her silver abalone shell necklace hung, glimmering in the sunlight, along with a small pair of silver and opal studs in her ears. With how straight and proud she stood, he would never have guessed she was once a pirate or a washerwoman.
But her eyes worried Will, for they were bright and wet with unshed tears. The source of her distress became obvious as she looked sidelong at a large picture frame mounted on a standing easel nearby.
Will felt his stomach nearly flip inside out.
Inside the ornate frame, protected by a pane of glass, was a seal skin mounted and pinned on a whiteboard. With its dark chocolate brown fur and cream underbelly, it would have been a beautiful skin. However, nearly a third had been burnt and charred to red and black. It was a beautiful yet terrible sight to behold.
Oh, Peg.
Will quickly looked at Peggy again, cursing his bound hands and his guards as he watched her hiss at her father.
"It belongs to the ocean! You can't keep it like this. It's not right-"
"As her partner and keeper, your mother's property is mine to do with as I see fit. Now compose yourself! We still have business to attend to." Beckett snapped as Mercer slunk from a corner of the room to hand a document over to his master. Will glanced and saw the familiar figure of Sloane standing outside on the veranda, talking with a couple of sailors and officers over a ship's manifest. However, his green eyes flickered worriedly inside towards Peggy's upset face every few seconds.
Why does he care? Will glowered at the man. Just why is he trying to act so familiar with Peggy?
Will felt his stomach broil and bubble angrily. It was worse than when he had to deal with Jack's possessiveness. At least Will knew that Jack had no romantic designs for Peggy. Despite his double-crossing cheating ways, Will could trust the pirate to do right by her when the wind and tides were against them.
But Sloane…Will did not like the way he looked at her at all. Also, he was a member of the EITC, the organisation that had tried to purge and imprison the selkies of the Caribbean. How could Will trust Peggy's safety to such a man who worked for an institution like that?
"The prisoner as ordered, sir." One of Will's guards announced.
"Those won't be necessary." Beckett waved the officers dismissively, not even looking up from the papers Mercer was showing him. "Margaret, you may help Mister Turner settle in if you wish. I will be only a moment."
Peggy did not need to be told twice. It seemed she had been looking for an excuse to get away as fast as possible from the man.
As soon as Will's cuffs had been removed, he and Peggy all but rushed to one another and hugged one another tight.
"I'm fine, Peg. I'm fine." Will assured her as she patted him down for injuries. "How are your bruises?"
"I can barely feel them anymore," Peggy mumbled as she reached up to cup his cheek and inspect his face. I see they were gentler with you than they were with me, " she grumbled.
"Pirate?" Will suggested, and she swatted his chest lightly. Her eyes were still downcast as she glanced over her shoulder at the pelt in the frame.
"Is that…?" Will gulped, and Peggy nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.
"My mother's pelt…yes," she mumbled, and Will shook his head sadly.
"I'm so sorry, Peg," He whispered, wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye before it could spill. "He doesn't have your-"
"N-no!" Peggy whispered, putting her fingers to his lips to silence him. "It's safe."
"Good. Good." Will sighed in relief, his smile returning as she fussed over his necktie and hair. He had tried to neaten himself in his cell before leaving, but it was difficult to align everything correctly without a mirror. He felt his heart swell as he watched her chew her bottom lip in concentration.
How he'd missed her fussiness these last few months. It was almost soothing to his anxious nerves.
"There." She muttered, flattening out the lapels of his navy-blue overcoat. "Handsome as ever."
"And you look beautiful." He murmured, tucking a stray curl of copper behind her ear, his knuckle stroking her jawline. "Lady Margaret"
He grinned as Peggy glowered at him stonily.
"Don't you dare," She grumbled, though the effect was ruined by the minor upward quirk of her lips as she joined in his mirth. "I'm serious, Mister Turner. Don't you bloody dare-"
"Dare what, my Lady?" he chuckled as she swatted him again, catching the attention of Beckett, Mercer, and Sloane, who all paused to stare at them in their tasks.
Mercer watched them with narrowed, suspicious eyes like a hawk, looking for any sign of potential trouble. Sloane's smile had frozen, his green eyes betraying his disturbance at seeing the loving gesture between the pair. It made Will smug to see him looking so bothered.
But Beckett's curious gaze unsettled him most of all as he dismissed his two clerks with a wave of his hand.
His face was cold and blank, a mask as ever, but there was a gleam in his eyes not too dissimilar from the one Will had often seen in Jack's eyes when he had spotted an interesting development. It was the spark of a schemer, a plot hatching in the mind of one confident he had all the cards he needed to play and win.
Will loosened his grip on Peggy, who blushed as she noticed her father's stare at their precarious position.
"I see you have managed to make Mister Turner feel warm and welcome, Margaret," Beckett smirked, enjoying his daughter's uncomfortable squirming. "Now, if you would not mind, let him go so we all may discuss business like gentlemen."
Will squeezed Peggy's hand in reassurance as they detached from one another, coughing as they dusted themselves off to make themselves more presentable.
Beckett, meanwhile, had strolled casually over to a drinks cabinet and started pouring two brandy glasses for himself and Will and a glass of water for Peggy.
Of course, Peggy would not get to drink alcohol, scowled to herself. She was a lady. Ladies did not drink brandy during the day, especially not during business meetings, where they were supposed to remain silent and know their place.
Men. She scoffed. Of course, she did not want the drink in the first place, but the principle of the matter bothered her.
"Now that we are all settled." Beckett clipped suddenly business-like as he handed Will a glass of brandy, only for it to be coldly rejected without a word. "Let me start by formally thanking you, Mister Turner."
"Thanking me?" Will quirked a brow.
"Indeed. I have it on good authority that you have been helping look after my daughter Margaret during her time at Port Royal." He gestured to Peggy, who silently took a sip of her water to keep her frayed temper in check. "Indeed, it has been made known to me that you were the one who found her and have protected her from a great deal of dangers, including but not limited to living off the streets."
"While your gratitude is gracious, Lord Beckett, I am afraid I cannot take all the credit." Will glanced at Peggy, his eyes warming considerably. "Peggy is very dear to me and has done much to look after me over the years. Even now, she risked her life and her freedom to warn me of your plans to arrest me. She is a good woman. A good friend." No thanks to you. he wanted to say out loud, but Will felt Beckett could read between the lines as easily as breathing, for his grey-blue eyes hardened ever so slightly.
"Yes. It does take an incredible amount of loyalty to throw yourself off a ship in the middle of a storm to warn a friend." He drawled sardonically, and Will knew the man was wondering if they were talking about the same person, for the glower she fixed the merchant with was nothing short of venomous.
Beckett, however, decided to ignore her ire for once as he took a small sip from his glass and said:
"Well, you may not have known it, Mister Turner, but I have been searching for my eldest daughter for quite some time since she first fell overboard thirteen years ago. It comforts me that she had someone looking after her when I was incapable of doing so. Of course, now that I have found her again, I will take that responsibility off your shoulders."
"Good luck with that." Will snorted, and Peggy bit her lip to stop smirking.
"Yes, well, I'm sure that if a blacksmith's apprentice such as yourself can manage for ten years, then it is possible." Beckett clipped, the vein in his temple ticking briefly as he steadied himself.
"But jokes aside, Mister Turner, I may be a man of duty, but I am not above recognising a good deed when I see it. Yes, you and your fiancé may be facing charges for piracy; however, given your association with my daughter and your role in her life, I am willing to give you and your fiancé a chance to…make amends for your actions."
"Oh? So you plan on releasing Elizabeth as well?" Will frowned.
"That's entirely up to you." Beckett finished his glass of brandy with a small sip.
"Really? Then I'll just pop out and tell the guards to let her go."
"Clarifying, that's entirely dependent on you." Beckett raised his eyebrows at the younger man's cheek. "The East India Trading Company needs your services."
"What is the East India Trading Company doing in the Caribbean?" Will asked with suspicious eyes.
"Well, we are east of India, just the long way around," Beckett smirked like a fisherman, feeling the line tug. "After all, when goods won't cross borders, armies will."
Will stiffened as he glanced at Peggy. She, too, looked tense even as she sidled closer to him, her eyes warily watching her father as he turned his back on them to walk over to the lit hearth and took one of the pokers to prod and turn over a few logs within.
"We wish you to act as our agent in a business transaction with our mutual friend, Captain Sparrow."
"More acquaintance than friend. How do you know him?" Will frowned confusedly.
"We've had dealings in the past, " Beckett said tensely as he turned over the poker in the fire so that the iron turned red. "And we've each left our mark on the other."
Peggy tensed like a bowstring as she saw what was in her father's hands. It was not a poker, but an iron brand…an iron brand in the familiar shape of the letter P.
She felt her blood turn cold. How many times had she seen the burnt skin on Jack's arm in that same shape? To think she'd be standing in the same room as the object that had made such a mark…to believe she was related to the man who had inflicted the wound upon someone so dear to her almost made her want to throw up.
It was only thanks to Will's hand gripping hers that she was able to bring herself back to reality as he said:
"What mark did he leave on you?"
There was a pause in which Beckett put the brand back in its rightful place in the holder, his hand absentmindedly rubbing a spot on his forearm. However, he did not answer Will's question.
Instead, he straightened up and said primly:
"By your efforts, Jack Sparrow was set free. I would like you to go to him and recover a certain property in his possession."
"Recover." Will sniffed "at the point of a sword?"
"Bargain." Beckett put his empty glass down on the table.
"If you wish to bargain with Jack Sparrow, then you'd be better off sending Peggy to do it." Will snorted. "She knows him better than you or I. And he trusts her-"
"I am afraid that is no longer an option." Beckett's smile became cold as his gaze flickered to Peggy, whose nostrils flared. "You see, Mister Turner, Margaret is no longer a pirate. She is my daughter. And as my daughter, she must uphold her duties to her father and her family. As I have no sons to carry on my name or legacy, I must secure my family line however I can. And Margaret must help me by preparing herself for marriage."
"You snivelling son of a sea biscuit," Peggy growled, fangs extending even as Will made to grab her and hold her back from lunging. "You sold me off, didn't you?! First my sister, and now me?!"
"I have not sold you off." Beckett scoffed. "I may be a lord now, but you are the daughter of my lover and not my wife. No respectable man from the aristocracy will take you, so we must look outside the noble classes for a suitable match. Luckily for us, we don't have to look too far. Mister Sloane has taken rather a shine to you in the short time he's observed you. So I have given him my blessing to court you, and should he prove able to tame your temper, marry you."
"SLOANE?!" Peggy shouted angrily, and though he struggled to hold her back, Will felt his gut burn hot like the sun.
That slimy smiling knave?! Peggy's husband?!
Over my dead body! He snarled in his head.
No! Just no! This was not happening! Watching an undead blackguard like Barbossa pawing over her like a rabid dog was bad enough! But Sloane?!
"I do not see why you are so upset," Beckett smirked. "Ronan Sloane is a very bright young man with many prospects. Handsome, loyal, dependable, everything a young woman of your station could ever want in a husband. Unless, of course, someone else is waiting in the wings to fill that role for you. Tell me, Mister Turner, have you seen any other viable candidates?" He glanced slyly at Will, whose nostrils flared as he tightened his grip around Peggy to stop lunging for the man himself.
Will had thought Barbossa was scheming and sadistic, but this little jackal took the cake. He did not care if he and Peggy were blood relations; he wanted nothing more than to snap his pale neck like a goose for slaughter.
Beckett chuckled softly as he approached a small lockbox on his desk with the EITC insignia engraved on top and opened it gently. He thought his daughter was easy to rile up, but Will Turner was just as malleable to his bidding when under pressure.
It had been so easy to use their bond against them both. Though it surprised Beckett just how intensely Will had been affected by Sloane's attention. Why was he with a woman like Elizabeth Swann if that were the case? Was his love for the Governor's even more passionate, or was that just a match made for ambition's sake?
No. No, Will Turner did love Lady Elizabeth. If he had only sought marriage for money and status, he would not have wasted any opportunity to dump the Governor's daughter in favour of Peggy, now the far superior match in wealth and position. And yet, Beckett felt the blacksmith would do anything to stop her from marrying a more suitable man.
Either way, it would be an interesting nugget to tuck away for later use. Right now, Beckett had more important things to worry about.
"Letters of Marque," Beckett said calmly as he opened a leather folder revealing an official parchment sheet. "Jack will be free, a privateer in the employ of England."
That managed to pause Peggy and Will's bristling, though they still were seething with rage.
"Somehow, I doubt Jack will consider employment the same as being free." Will clipped.
"Especially not after how it turned out last time," Peggy added, her eyes narrowed to slits.
"Freedom." Beckett scoffed at the pair as he strode outside to the veranda, which overlooked the specially made pier for EITC vessels where the HMS Endeavour was docked and receiving new cargo.
"Jack Sparrow is a dying breed." He said as Peggy and Will slowly and cautiously followed him to watch as a new clockface was hauled up by pulley towards the top of the EITC headquarters clocktower. "The world is shrinking, the blank edges of the map filled in. Jack must find his place in the New World or perish. Not unlike you, Mister Turner," Beckett leaned back against the railing. "You and your fiancée face the hangman's noose."
"So you get Jack and the Black Pearl?" Will sucked in a soothing breath as he looked out over the harbour.
"The Black Pearl?" Beckett quirked a confused brow.
"The property you want that he possesses." Will frowned, feeling Peggy tense beside him.
"A ship? Hardly. The item in question is considerably smaller and more valuable, something Sparrow always keeps on his person at all times. Something you, Margaret, are probably very familiar with, I am sure. A compass."
"His compass? Really? That battered old thing?" Peggy sucked in a deep breath, and her father smiled with derisive glee.
"Ahh, good, you do know it."
"Every pirate captain has a compass," Peggy rolled her eyes. "Hell, most captains, pirate or not, have a compass on them. Jack is no different."
"Isn't he?" Beckett's smirk was wide as he glanced back up at Will.
"Bring back that compass, or there's no deal." Beckett turned on his heel and strode back into his office. "I shall give you till this evening to consider my request, Mister Turner. However, you may say your goodbyes to Margaret now if you wish. Indeed, feel free to spend the rest of the afternoon together. This will be the last time you see her. After all, now that she is back home with her real family, she is no longer your responsibility. Ah, Mister Sloane, excellent timing."
"Will!" Peggy gripped Will's arm as he balked forward at the sight of the fair-haired man entering the room with new paperwork for his employer to review.
"How dare he-" Will growled, and Peggy was forcibly reminded of a rabid dog ready to bite.
"Will don't-"
"Your real family?! How dare he say that after all he's done to you-"
"Shhh, Will, calm down." Peggy hissed, stepping in front of him and cupping his cheek in her hand to draw his gaze back to her. "Will. Will look at me. Look at me. That's it. Just look at me."
Will looked at her, his brown eyes blazing with fire even as she stroked her thumb over his cheekbone.
"Don't listen to him," She whispered as soon as she had his full attention on her face. "Don't let them get to you. I made that mistake, and it's cost me already. If you let him get under your skin, you'll only get in more trouble."
"So I'm just going to stand there and watch him lord it over you like this?" Will spat, glaring at the back of Beckett's head with such fury that it was a miracle that his powdered wig did not catch fire.
"Well, he is a lord. I know. I know, not the time for jokes." Peggy chided herself as Will glowered at her. "But Will, you can't do anything now without hurting yourself or Elizabeth-"
"Or you."
"Or me." Peggy shook her head distractedly. My point is, if you can't do anything now, then don't. Wait for the opportune moment."
Will paused in his bristling. The last time he had heard those words was six months ago in that damp, treasure-filled cave in which he had been forced to fight for his life. A fight they had won because they had trusted Jack's intuition.
Still, that did not mean Will had to enjoy seeing her suitor stealing admiring glances at the back of Peggy's curls as he handed documents for his employer to sign.
Will glared daggers at the other man, doing his best to show him in a look the wrath he could not communicate with his words or his fists, all the while sizing him up. Besides his muscular physique and broad shoulders, Will noticed that the man's knuckles were far rougher than Beckett's. Will had seen hands like his before on men used to fighting with their fists and hard labour. Hardly the hands that a mere clerk would possess.
He hardly seemed scared of Will's ire. Indeed, his smirk only grew condescendingly as if Will were nothing more than a pup trying to bark at a cat on a fence.
Good, Will thought scathingly; it would make his inevitable defeat by his hand even more humiliating and satisfying.
Peggy meanwhile glowered at her father, who had also noticed the silent exchange between Will and Sloane and was smiling with derisive amusement. It was like watching a pair of young bristling bucks sizing one another up for a bout.
Well, he could keep smiling. She had already made her choice, and Sloane would have to be a conceited idiot to think she would be willing to court him after everything that had happened.
I'm such an idiot to come back here. Why couldn't I have just stayed with Jack and the Pearl? Life was so simple when all I had to worry about was making sure that man didn't drink himself to death.
Peggy thought glumly as she turned her gaze back out over the ocean.
Jack, wherever you are, stay safe.
Jack Sparrow sighed as he descended through the lower decks of the Black Pearl. It was the dead of night, and barely anyone stirred in the ship, save the few that took the night shift above deck. However, none of them would bother him in his quest for rum.
The only person who usually dared come between him and another bottle was far away, running after her beloved two-timing whelp.
I wonder if she's reached him yet? She must have done. It only takes two days tops to reach Port Royal from Tortuga. He mused as he quietly unlocked the door to the hold where several bottles of his favourite rum were stored, ready in wait.
It had been a very frustrating day. He had thought things would be more straightforward now that he had found out the truth about his newest treasure to hunt for. However, he could hardly concentrate on finding a suitable heading. His mind was too scattered, too fragmented.
He wanted to drink rum to forget that which made him fret; he wanted to go out there and drag Peggy back to her rightful place on the Pearl away from that disgusting boy; he wanted to find that key and find the treasure it unlocked; he wanted to run and hide from that horrible prickling sensation he could feel on the back of his neck that warned him of danger.
His heart and head were torn in too many directions for him to make any rational decision, leaving him in the precarious position of overseeing a very frustrated and confused crew. He could face another mutiny if he were not careful.
Jack almost hated admitting it, but Barbossa had been right. His waffling ways had lost him the Pearl in the first place. People liked having a sense of direction. They wanted certainty and stability. If you deprived people of that, they became dangerous and prone to making stupid decisions.
Need that rum. Now, where is it? Jack smiled as he raised his lantern to see better in the darkened galley.
Gods, it is damp down here. He sniffed with disgust as he passed a nook in the wall where several molluscs and sea critters had made their homes. Gods, we need to clean up down here. Oh! There you are, you beauty.
He smiled in delight as he saw the lantern light glimmer on a glass bottle.
He grabbed the bottle with deft hands only to sigh as the cork fell out and sand slid from its neck.
"Time's run out, Jack."
Jack almost leapt out of his skin, the bottle slipping out of his grip to smash on the floor.
By all the gods, old and new, that voice was downright terrifying. It was deep and gravelly as if its owner had not spoken in a long time. It certainly did not belong to anyone in his crew, that was for sure.
And yet, it sounded familiar.
Warily, he raised his lantern high and crept through the shadows, cursing himself for not carrying his sword. It was a careless mistake and a dangerous one.
However, there was no point crying over spilt ale now. Not when his lantern shed light on a figure sitting on a barrel behind a support beam.
The figure was hunched over in the shadows, his long coat grimy and covered in barnacles. His entire body was drenched from head to foot, and he smelled like a wet dead dog. But his face held Jack's wonder as he turned to face the lantern.
His face was waterlogged, pallid and drawn. His dark brown hair was stringy, and a starfish embedded into his skin, almost like a legion. His eyes were a piercingly pale blue, nearly the same shade as his lips.
The whole effect was quite gruesome. It was almost as if Jack were looking at a drowned corpse come to li-
Ye Gods…It can't be…
"Bootstrap?" He breathed, brows furrowing. "Bill Turner?"
"You look good, Jack." William "Bootstrap Bill" Turner smiled at Jack, water dribbling from his mouth.
Jack stared at the man, aghast. This…how could this be happening? This had to be a dream, couldn't it? And yet, it certainly looked like Bootstrap and sounded like the man.
Junior had to have gotten his good looks from his mother then… Jack found himself musing, his mind's silly way of distracting himself from the shock.
And yet, even as Jack tried blinking away the macabre vision before him, Bootstrap Bill did not disappear.
"Is this a dream?"
"No." Bootstrap shook his head.
"I thought not." Jack felt his gut sink. What was it with supernatural undead people following him around? Was he just a magnet for these sorts of beings? Was it a curse? "If it were, there would be rum."
There was the tinkle of glass as Bootstrap raised a hand, a bottle of rum held so tight in his grip it had almost stuck to it like cement.
"You got the Pearl back, I see." Bootstrap's smile softened as he looked around the familiar surroundings.
"I had some help retrieving the Pearl, by the way," Jack smirked to sound casual and lighten the mood. "From little Pegsy…and your son." He took a much-needed swig of rum, savouring its taste and the warm buzz that washed through him, taking the edge off the cold night air.
"Peggy? She's with you?" Bootstrap blinked in surprise, and Jack grinned.
"Aye, mate, well, sort of. She's gone off to do her own thing, but she'll be back soon. All grown up, of course, but still as feisty as ever."
"And William?" Bootstrap's eyes brightened, the first spark of life Jack had seen in the man since his appearance. "He became a pirate, after all." He almost sounded disappointed.
"And what do I owe the pleasure of our carbuncle?" Jack waved off his concerns. Bootstrap might be an old friend, but Jack had had enough talk of the man's whelp to last him for several lifetimes.
"He sent me," Bootstrap muttered, his pale, haggard eyes drifting to meet Jack's brown kohl-lined ones. "Davy Jones."
"Oh…" Jack's eyes widened for a split second, his heart sinking even further so that it threatened to fall out and onto the floor. How? How was it time already? He had thought he had a few more months, at least!
He had thought he had more time.
"So…it's you then, " he breathed, quickly leaning back to sit on a barrel behind him before his trembling legs could give way beneath him. "He shanghaied you into service ey?"
"I chose it," Bootstrap grunted, his expression softening with guilt. "I'm sorry for the part I played in the mutiny against you, Jack."
THUD!
Jack watched in disgust as the undead man slapped a hand and caught a stray hermit crab wandering out from his wet sleeve.
"I stood up for you and little Peggy. Everything went wrong for you after that."
Jack gulped down hard on the bile rising in his throat as Bootstrap raised the little crustacean to his lips and chomped down into it as if it were a grape.
"They strapped me to a cannon. I ended up on the bottom of the ocean, the weight of the water crashing down on me. Unable to move. Unable to die, Jack and I thought that even the tiniest hope of escaping this fate, I would take it. I would trade anythin' for it."
Despite the swig of rum he took, the guilt that weighed on Jack's heart was too heavy to hide, and he found his gaze averted to the floor. He could not imagine being stuck in such a terrible position. Unable to die, unable to live, his screams swallowed by the ocean water as it flooded his lungs. He supposed sailing under the colours of the Sunken Devil was preferable to that fate.
"It's funny what a man will do to forestall his final judgement," Jack said as he returned the rum bottle to Bootstrap and stood to his feet, only to find his path blocked as the drowned man suddenly appeared before him from the shadows.
"You made a deal with him too, Jack. He raised the Pearl from the depths for you. Thirteen years, you've been her captain."
"Well, technically-" Jack tried, but Bootstrap shook his head.
"Jack. You won't be able to talk yourself out of this. The terms that applied to me and to Peggy apply to you as well."
"Pegsy?" Jack frowned in confusion. "What does Pegsy have to-"
"One soul bound to crew 100 years upon his ship."
"Yes, but the Flying Dutchman already has a captain, so there's no-"
"Then it's the locker for you!" Bootstrap snarled his sopping deathly face so close to Jack they were almost nose to nose. Jack shivered at the proximity, for though the man before him appeared human, he possessed none of the warmth a human body would give off. Instead, he smelled wet and rotten, like a corpse.
"Jones's terrible leviathan will find you," Bootstrap rumbled "And drag the Pearl back to the depths and you along with it."
Ahh shit! Jack gulped as he leaned away from the undead man's intense blue gaze.
"A…Any idea when Jones might release said terrible beastie?"
"I already told ye, Jack." Bootstrap leaned back, taking Jack's left hand in his own clammy, wet one and slapping something cold, wet and something Jack did think he had the stomach to describe onto his palm.
"It comes now! Drawn with ravenous hunger to the man what bears…the Black Spot."
Jack looked down into his palm, his heart nearly stopping. He felt something slimy and wriggly form and sprout from his skin, darkening until a lesion-like black maw was right in the centre. It was not painful, but the horror he felt from just seeing the mark made him almost want to throw up then and there.
Jack prided himself on having a strong stomach for the macabre, but…this was too much even for him to bear.
He looked up at Bootstrap, opening his mouth to ask for more information. Heck, he'd even beg on his knees if it meant the undead man would give him a little help.
Yet even as Jack looked around the galley, he found himself alone in the cold, wet and dark.
Bugger!
"ON DECK! ALL HANDS! MAKE FAST THE BUNT GASKET! ON DECK SCURRY!"
"So Katrina, how were your lessons today?"
"Quite well, Father,"
"Yes, My Lord, Lady Katrina is progressing well in her arithmetic and French classes. And she is just flying through her dancing lessons."
Peggy's eyes glazed over as she stared around the dining table.
This was…this was strange. This was weird and strange and every other synonym she could think of to describe the bizarre scene unfolding before her.
After assuring Will that she would be alright, he was escorted to a guest room and kept prisoner until dinner, which he and a very desperate and flustered Governor Swann had been invited to attend. Hosting the dinner was Peggy's father, Lord Beckett, who now sat at the head of the table, watching everyone with an imperious gaze. Peggy sat on his left, and Governor Swann sat on his right, looking just about as uncomfortable as Peggy felt.
To her relief, the nobleman did not seem to hold any animosity towards her. Peggy thought he might not feel so happy being so near her, given how close a relationship she had was to the man who had imprisoned his daughter. However, to her relief, Governor Swann seemed to understand from her behaviour that she was just as sticky a situation as he was, though he kept reticent throughout the entire dinner.
This Peggy was glad for. While her feelings for Elizabeth were slightly strained, she bore no ill will towards the Governor. He may have been a bumbling fool sometimes and a bit too indulgent of his daughter, but he was a good man.
Much to Peggy's relief, Will was allowed to sit next to her, though it came at the cost of being sat opposite Sloane, who seemed amused at his obvious dislike. However, Will had so far managed to keep his temper reigned by joining in Governor Swann's silent vigil. However, that might have been because of the presence of young twelve-year-old Katrina Beckett, who sat on Sloane's other side with her Governess, a stern-faced woman with dark hair named Miss Burgess, seated next to Will.
Peggy wondered at the sight of her sister.
She had dark brown curls, thick and silky at the back, while the front had been tied back with a ribbon, unlike Peggy's unruly copper ringlets, which fought back against her newly refreshed hair. Her alabaster complexion with rosy cheeks reminded Peggy of one of Elizabeth's old porcelain dolls, a look only cemented by the delicate rose-pink dress she wore for dinner, which contrasted starkly with the dark blue silk gown Peggy had been forced to change into. Katrina and Peggy seemed only to share their father's grey-blue eyes. Without them, the two of them would have looked like perfect strangers.
She seems sweet, I guess, Peggy mused as she watched her sister smile at her father, who politely and calmly praised her positive progress in her needlework as their course was taken away. Dessert would be soon to come, but Peggy did not know whether she had the stomach for it.
But when those big grey-blue eyes turned on her, Peggy was surprised to see the eager excitement in them as she asked:
"Do you do much needlework, sister?"
"Uhh…yes. I do." Peggy coughed, feeling her cheeks flush at the sudden spotlight being flung on her. "Nothing as pretty as what you've probably been doing. Most of my needlework is dedicated to repairing rips and tears in clothes and sails-"
"Sails? So it's true, then, what the servants say? You are a pirate?" Katrina's smile brightened, and Peggy felt herself smile. It reminded her of Elizabeth's eagerness to hear dramatic tales of piracy and adventure. Poor Elizabeth, stuck cold and alone in a cell while Peggy and her fiancé were forced to wine and dine with the man responsible for her suffering.
"Lady Katrina, you mustn't believe such nasty rumours." Miss Burgess tutted, but before she could apologise for her charge's words, Peggy chuckled.
"Rumours? They're not rumours. They're true. I am a pirate."
"Margaret-" Beckett muttered sternly, but Peggy rolled her eyes.
"Oh, Father, it's not like everyone here doesn't know what I am already. Governor Swann knows, Will knows, and your man Sloane knows. And Katrina is my sister. If she's going to hear the truth, she might as well hear it from me, the source, rather than fanciful rumours that blow things out of proportion."
"I suppose you have a point." Beckett conceded wearily, much to Will's silent amusement. Peggy was always good at wearing people down. "Though I would caution you to mind how you speak. I would not have your sister's ears tainted so young in life like yours were."
"Pff! What's the point in being an older sibling if you can't share the fun stuff?" Peggy snorted, and before he could retort, she turned her attention back to an eager Katrina. "But yes, to answer your question, Katrina, I am a pirate."
"Wow. That's incredible." Katrina was almost buzzing in her seat. "For how long have you been a pirate? For that matter, how did you become a pirate? Was it hard? What ship did you sail-"
"Woah-woah! Easy Kitty Kat." Peggy chuckled at the girl's enthusiasm, feeling a rush of warmth for the girl. "One question at a time."
"Sorry." Katrina blushed, embarrassed, as her father quirked an imperious brow at her over his wine glass.
"It's alright, my dear." Governor Swann piped up from his seat, a small, sad and fond smile on his face. "My daughter Elizabeth was much like you at your age. Could not get enough of pirates and adventures."
"Still is," Peggy smirked. "When we were travelling back from the Isla de Muerta, she spent many nights in our cabin grilling me for stories from my time on the Black Pearl."
"The Black Pearl?" Katrina's eyes widened, and Will nodded.
"One of the fastest ships in the Caribbean." He said softly, almost wistfully, remembering the black sooty sails stark black on the water sailing away that sunny day six months ago from Port Royal.
"And quite a beauty." Sloane nodded in agreement. "Black sails and a black painted hull. Truly a formidable figure on the water."
"How did you come to sail on her?" Katrina asked Peggy, eyes shining.
"Well, I…" Peggy paused as she glanced sidelong at her father. For once, his gaze upon her was curious rather than irritable, his eyes gleaming sharply with intent. She'd have to be careful how she answered. "It all happened after I fell overboard thirteen years ago. After drifting in the open ocean for a while until I was picked up by a…by a passing ship." Peggy gulped, rubbing her right wrist under the table as it prickled unpleasantly. "The ship's captain did not want to keep me aboard, so he dumped me at this fishing village the first chance he got. There, this kind lady took me in for a few days and told me that if I wanted to return to civilisation, I would have to hitch a ride on a fisherman's boat to a port called Tortuga-"
"You went to a cesspit like Tortuga all by yourself? At eight years old?" Sloane blinked at her in wonderment.
"I didn't have a choice there, did I? It was the closest big port with ships large enough to attempt long ocean travel. Also, for all I knew back then, my family had given up on me." Peggy added with a pointed glance at her father, whose cold eyes softened sadly for a small fraction of a second.
Will wondered at the sight. Apart from the few lapses in his temper, Beckett had maintained a dignified, aloof, untouchable air around him. But he truly did look guilty and aggrieved by the loss of his eldest.
Perhaps even a man like him was not completely without love in his heart, Will supposed as he took a silent sip of his wine. If he had not tried to imprison and arrest Elizabeth and himself for hanging, Will might have even felt a little sorry for the man.
"Still, it was brave of you to attempt the journey on your own," Will said quietly, his hand reaching discreetly under the table to grip Peggy's fingers. "Especially at such a young age."
"It must have been rather terrifying." Miss Burgess agreed in horrified fascination. "you poor thing. I've heard such awful things about that port."
"It's not so bad." Peggy shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, it is perilous and scary for a small child. However, if you know how to take care of yourself, it can be quite an interesting and educational experience."
"It certainly was eye-opening," Will grunted, remembering the eye-opening and shocking displays he had seen on the street and in the Faithful Bride pub.
"So, how did you end up on the Black Pearl?" Sloane tilted his head curiously.
"I would have thought a man like you would have found out, given the long months you spent there undercover." Peggy quirked a brow at him coolly.
"Only that you stowed away on the Black Pearl after cutting your hair and disguising yourself as a boy," Sloane muttered.
"Well, there you have it. That's how I became a pirate." Peggy clipped.
"Though it does not explain how you managed to convince a man like Captain Jack Sparrow to make you his cabin girl." Beckett's eyes narrowed, but Peggy was ready for him.
"I thought you said you didn't want me to scandalise my dear sister's ears?"
There were a few titters around the table. Even Beckett allowed himself a small, amused smirk.
"All things considered, you were lucky to have survived as long as you did live amongst such rough characters." Sloane's smile widened as he looked at Will, who stiffened. "Which brings me to my next question. How did you and Mister Turner become so closely acquainted?"
"I found her," Will said stiffly, ignoring the jibe to his lower station. "On the beach here at Port Royal, shortly after she left Jack's service. She needed a safe place to stay, and my old master mister Brown had a spare room. We have been as good as a family ever since."
"Hmm, family? How wonderful that two such unrelated people can find such a bond under such circumstances." Sloane chuckled, green eyes sharpening, though his mouth remained smiling. "Perhaps I made a mistake in asking Lord Beckett's permission to court Lady Margaret when it should have been you."
"Yes, I rather think you did." Will's brow twitched, brown eyes hardening coldly.
"William." Peggy sighed in exasperation, gripping his hand tighter under the table. "I can decide who I wish to court for myself without anyone's permission."
"Can you indeed?" Beckett's eyebrow quirked coldly, and Peggy narrowed her eyes at him.
"Yes. I can." She stated proudly, much to the awe of young Katrina, who had watched the exchange in rapture. She had never been involved in such grown-up affairs, especially regarding courting. She had also never seen anyone stand up so fiercely to their father without flinching. Most people usually cowered before their father.
"Perhaps there is a way to put this matter to rest." Governor Swann piped in, unable to bear the uncomfortably stifling atmosphere. "Lord Beckett, while I do not assume to intervene in your family matters I do hope you will not mind my opinion as a fellow father."
"I do not mind at all," Beckett said, turning away from Peggy to look coldly and politely at the nobleman. "On the contrary, I welcome it since you have more experience than I do in preparing a daughter for courtship and matrimony."
"Thank you." Governor Swann coughed as he straightened up in his seat. "While you are Miss Blake – I mean Lady Margaret's father, Lord Beckett, Mister Turner has been her foster brother for many years. It is only natural that he should be worried about the nature of her potential admirers, especially when they are strangers to him. Perhaps it might be a good idea for Mister Sloane to accompany Mister Turner on his mission so they may spend some time man-to-man and lay any fears of his suitability to rest."
"Now, there is a thought," Beckett smirked as he leaned back in his chair, that cold gleam returning to his eyes. "Yes, that is a good idea. I was worried about sending Mister Turner off alone without aid on such an important errand. Perhaps this might be a good opportunity for you both to understand one another better."
"I certainly do not mind." Sloane smiled at Will, enjoying the way the Blacksmith's nostrils flared. "Though it would be a wrench having to leave Lady Margaret's company, I was hoping to spend more time with her."
"I'm sure I could survive without you." Peggy deadpanned coldly, then quickly smiled at Katrina before her father could open his mouth to chastise her. "Perhaps with you gone, I might have time to get to know my sister."
Katrina beamed at the suggestion, her grey-blue eyes sparkling with glee. Peggy felt her heart ache with guilt for using the little girl in such a way. But if she had to spend the last few weeks of her life in her father's keeping, she at least wanted to get to know her only sibling.
Will watched the sisters, his anger wavering slightly at the warm exchange. It was nice to see Peggy feel some fondness for the girl. From what he had seen, she was the only good, innocent thing that probably lived in this building aside from that white cat.
"Well, that's settled then." Beckett sighed, though Peggy could tell he was somewhat pleased by the outcome. "Mister Sloane shall accompany Mister Turner on his errand, and Katrina, you may help your sister settle into her duties around the house. And in time, who knows, if Mister Turner fulfils his end of the bargain, then Lady Swann might also be able to join the two of you as a free woman."
Now it was Peggy's turn to grip his hand under the table to steady Will as he pursed his lips to keep himself from retorting.
He felt peeved with Governor Swann as well. He knew the man had meant well with his suggestion, but now he had put Will in a precarious position. It was bad enough that he now had EITC supervision on his mission, but to have a man like Sloane by his side day and night…
Gods, I wish this nightmare would end.
It was the crack of dawn. A fine mist had settled over the lilac-grey sky and waters, but none of the Black Pearl's crew had time to enjoy the sight.
Joshamee Gibbs stared aghast as his captain shouted from the helm at the men to keep sailing as if the devil were chasing them.
He had never seen Jack Sparrow in a state like this. His brown kohl-lined eyes were wide and terrified, and he jumped and yelled at anything and anyone who took him by surprise.
Jack had always been a strangely skittish character, one of the downsides of creating so many enemies in his profession. However, this anxiety was different from any Gibbs had seen before.
This was pure, unadulterated fear.
It chilled Gibbs's marrow to see such terror in Jack's face as he stared down at the compass, which, in his terror, had finally started working properly again as it helped him navigate to the safety of land.
Land? Land? Gibbs could not believe it. Jack may like a stint in Tortuga or at any port to stretch his legs and indulge in some female company for a little while, but otherwise, he hated being on land for any length of time.
Now he just wanted to find any land and stay there? Had the rum finally gotten to his head?
For the umpteenth time, Gibbs wished Peggy were around. Between them, they could usually understand the captain's funny turns and keep things calm.
He just hoped she would keep her promise and find them before Jack went totally off the deep end.
"Lady Margaret!"
"Mmmnn!"
"Miss Blake, wake up! NOW"
Peggy opened her eyes a crack and scowled. After many long hours of tossing and turning in her luxurious room bed, she had finally managed to find some measure of peaceful rest.
Now some git was shaking her shoulder and trying to wake her up.
Does no one in this place know about personal boundaries? She growled, fangs extending irritably in her mouth as she opened her eyes only to come nose to nose with a familiar clean-shaven face.
"You!" She reeled back, yanking the covers over herself to cover her modesty as Ronan Sloane jerked back, hands flying up in surrender. "You bastard how dare you-mmph!" her yelp was muffled as a large hand covered her mouth.
"SHH! Quiet! Do you want to wake everyone up?" Sloane whispered fiercely, his eyes glancing fretfully around the room. "Now, stay quiet and listen carefully. We don't have much time. Your beloved mister Turner leaves Port Royal very soon, and if you want to leave with him before your father finds out, you need to do exactly what I say."
"What?" Peggy mumbled behind the hand, her eyes wide. What the hell? What was this man talking about? What was going on?!
"I know it's confusing, Miss Blake, but I need your sharp mind to get with the program!" Sloane her by the arm and all but yanked her out of bed and dragged her to her feet, throwing something thick and heavy around her shoulders.
It was a dark grey cloak.
"Here, put this on." He quickly pulled the hood over her messy copper curls and grabbed her by the hand. "Now, follow me."
"Not until you explain what the hell is going on!" Peggy hissed only to receive a groan of exasperation.
"While I am fond of your spunk, Miss Blake, we really don't have time for this." Sloane rolled his eyes as he dragged her out through the door to her room and all but ran with her down the corridor towards a small staircase.
As they ran, Peggy chanced a look back and saw the two red-coated officers that were her guards slumped unconscious on the ground, their weapons strewn by their feet.
Okay, now she was REALLY confused.
If this is a dream, then it's a bloody weird one. She grumbled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She was led through another corridor and towards her father's study.
Wait? The study?
Yet even as they approached, Peggy saw that the two guards usually posted outside were missing.
"Good, they've gone on break." Sloane sighed as he dragged her into the opulent room, which was mysteriously empty and devoid of life, though her mother's pelt still stood proudly on display by her father's desk.
She wanted to rush out and take it, but Sloane was moving so fast that her feet could hardly keep pace, let alone have the strength to deviate from their path.
Just what was his deal? Was this part of his grand plan to win her over? Had her father put him up to this? was this all a ploy to move her to a more secure prison cell?
Yet something told her this was not the case as she was led out the doors and onto the veranda overlooking the pier.
The dawn sun was barely peeking over the horizon, but there was enough light to see and enough shadows to hide in. Between the two heads of the island, Peggy could see the dark silhouette of the ship coming into port, though it was still too dark to see its colours.
A light morning mist made the entire world look hazy and sleepy, hiding the surface of the harbour waters below.
The pier was deserted as most of the repair work, and couriers for merchandise had been completed yesterday. Now, all that remained were a few dock workers who would hardly bat an eye to the pair as they ducked and wove to stand in the sand beneath the pier's shadows where a rowboat was moored against one of the pillars.
"What the hell are we doing?" Peggy huffed as her feet sank into the soft, wet sand as small cold waves lapped at her ankles.
She was usually a morning person who was only too happy to wake up when the sun rose, but even this much activity before breakfast was too much for her.
"Taking the opportune moment, as you wisely put it to Turner yesterday." Sloane kept a tight grip on her to stop her from balking. "Now, where is that man? I told him to be here before dawn!"
"What, man?"
"By Poseidon, I thought he'd at least be somewhat capable of listening to instruction, but-"
The muffled thudding of footsteps on sand interrupted him, and he turned to grin.
Peggy followed his gaze and felt her heart leap from her chest. It was Will; he had changed from his wedding attire into a lighter coat and less ornate clothes better suited for travel. He glowered at Sloane as he approached, not noticing Peggy as she stood in the other man's shadow.
"Mister Turner, I am glad to see you. I am so glad you could make it," Sloane smirked.
"Let's not get too chummy, Sloane. I did not come here for you." Will clipped, his face a mask of annoyance.
"No, I am aware of your feelings toward me." Sloane grinned. "But perhaps you'll warm up to me when you see the surprise I brought you."
He stepped aside, and Will's eyes bulged.
"Peggy?!" he ran up to her and patted her down, blushing as he pulled her cloak tighter around her to cover her night dress.
"William. Thank god!" Peggy breathed, "Have you seen Elizabeth?"
"I just said my goodbyes. What are you doing here?"
"I'm still trying to figure that out myself." Peggy narrowed her eyes at Sloane, who shook his head.
"That's gratitude for you." he snorted, grabbing Peggy and Will and steering them towards the rowboat. "Now, while I enjoy watching you two simper over one another like this, we should get going. The Painted Lady won't wait for us forever, and Beckett will set his dogs onto us when he notices you are missing."
"The Painted Lady? What the hell is the-"
"No time to explain. Do either of you want to get out of here or not?!" Sloane grunted as he untied the rowboat from its pylon and began pushing her into deeper waters.
"Come on, Peg. We'll settle this when we're out of here!" Will grunted as he hoisted her to sit in the safety of the boat before reaching out to haul Sloane in, thrusting a second pair of oars into his arms.
With their combined efforts, the two men silently rowed into the harbour, their boat cloaked by the morning mist. Peggy pulled her cloak tight around her as she relished the morning sea breeze that washed over her.
She was not quite sure whether she could believe what was happening.
Why was Labelle back in port? Why was Sloane in cahoots with her? Why was he disobeying Beckett when he had played the part of such a loyal stooge? Or was he a loyal stooge? Peggy did not know what to think any more.
In the span of three days, she had gone from being Jack Sparrow's orphaned selkie cabin girl to the prisoner and daughter of the EITC's director. And now here she was, escaping at the crack of dawn with the man she loved and the man she had despised back to a life of piracy.
And here I thought life with Jack was hectic.
She sighed as she looked between Will and Sloane.
Neither man was talking to the other as they focussed on rowing as fast and hard as they could towards the Painted Lady. However, Peggy saw that Will was just as suspicious of their turn of fortune as she was, for he kept his gaze fixed on the back of Sloane's head as if trying to burn a hole through his blonde hair.
"Man overboard!" a young voice called.
Peggy turned her head, panicked, only to feel a smile spread over her face as the Painted Lady loomed from the mist.
It was a pretty ship, though it was clear she had seen some damage recently. Her red-painted hull and black-painted deck still bore scuff marks from cannon fire, and some of the paint was scraped off in some areas. Her sails were white but patched with pieces of different-coloured cloth as if they had been repaired in a great rush.
However, she still looked sturdy in the water, even as Peggy got close enough to see a head of dark curls peek down from above high in the rigging.
"Jimmy!" Peggy grinned with relief.
Will looked up at the face that greeted them and was surprised to see a young lad in his early teens waving down at them from on high.
His skin was light caramel, dark hair curled around his ears, and a purple bandanna drew them away from his face. His grin looked familiar to Will, though he was sure he had never seen the lad before. Where had he seen that smile?
"Quick, get aboard!" A man with a scraggly grey beard hissed as he and several other men threw a rope ladder over the ship's side.
"Ladies first!" Will pushed Peggy towards the ladder, helping hoist her by the waist so her feet could find purchase.
He followed her swiftly, marvelling at how she climbed into the ship, where the crew welcomed her most heartily before helping him and Sloane back on deck.
Were they friends of Jack? Were they allies of the Pearl?
Whoever they were, they seemed to regard Sloane quite fondly as he joined them. Several men slapped the blonde with a hearty chuckle and teased him about his clean-shaven chin.
"What's going on? Who are these people?" he hissed in Peggy's ear.
"This is the Painted Lady Will, a ship belonging to the Brethren Court,"
"The Brethren Court?" Will frowned but found himself interrupted as a woman's husky voice barked orders from the helm to get a move on to turn about and sail out of port before ordering a quartermaster to take the helm.
"Labelle!" Peggy shouted as a curvaceous woman in breeches, a very tight top, and a corseted vest descended the stairs to the helm.
She seemed of mixed descent, with caramel brown skin like the boy and long, dark, dreadlocked hair tied up high in a ponytail behind her head. She was about as tall as Will was, even without her shiny black boots.
"Ahh, Peggy dear. So glad you could join us!" Captain Jacqueline Labelle's kohl-lined brown eyes crinkled fondly upon Peggy.
"Oh, don't 'Dear Peggy' me Labelle! You better have a good explanation for the three days of stress you just put me through!" Peggy growled, though the effect was ruined by the relief in her voice and the smile in her eyes as young Jimmy clambered down from the mast to run and hug her tight. "Hey, Jimmy. I'm glad you're alright."
"Alright? What do you mean, alright? I am so not alright! Mum's had me locked up peeling potatoes for the past few days!" Jimmy Labelle jerked his thumb at Labelle, who rolled her eyes with motherly fondness.
"You wanted to steal rum from mummy's special stash, my love; then you pay the consequences."
"And him?! What's your explanation for THIS ONE?!" Peggy jerked a thumb at Sloane, who grinned. "You told me he was EITC-"
"And so he is." Labelle smiled amusedly at Peggy's frustration. "But he is also one of ours. The EITC is not the only one with spies across oceans." She then turned to fold her arms at Sloane.
"Speaking of which, you're late! We've been waiting around since last night."
Sloane bowed dramatically.
"Forgive me, Captain. But you know Lord Beckett. Always keeps a close eye on everything; I could barely find an opportunity to move."
"Ever the excuse maker," Labelle shook her head with fond admonishment. But I suppose you did get the job done, so well done. Oh dear me, it looks like your poor handsome friend over here is looking very confused." She smirked at Will, who had been watching the entire exchange with such bewilderment that it was a miracle he had not fainted from the shock yet.
"Ah yes, Captain, I'd like to introduce Mister William Turner." Sloane clapped Will on the back, using the force to push him closer to the lady pirate, who held out a ringed hand for him.
"C-Captain Labelle." Will gulped as he took her hand and, on autopilot, lowered his face to her knuckles in a gentlemanly greeting rather than shaking it like a man.
"Oooh! He's handsome and a gentleman. You have good taste, dear Peggy." Labelle smiled with a wink toward Peggy, who blushed pink. "Yes, I can see why my dear brother might feel threatened by this one."
"Your brother?" Will frowned as he dropped the lady pirate's hand.
"She means Uncle Jack." Jimmy rolled his eyes, already bored.
"Uncle Jack?" Will stared at the lad as understanding clicked into place.
Of course…of course, how could he have not seen it before? No wonder that smile was so familiar. The boy looked almost like a young Jack Sparrow. And this Captain Labelle, her eyes were just like Jack's.
That nearly made Will's head implode. The thought of Jack as young and having relatives was almost impossible until now. The man had always seemed so enigmatic and crazy that it almost felt like he had sprung from the ground without aging.
"Why don't we settle this in my cabin." Labelle smiled welcomingly. "Jimmy love, why don't you take Peggy to the guest cabin and get her some breeches? Mister Sloane, please escort Mister Turner to my cabin and order breakfast from the boys below. The poor things look like they could use a break."
"Aye, Captain." Sloane nodded dutifully. "Come on, Turner! Follow me!"
"I'll see you soon, Will," Peggy assured Will with a small smile as young Jimmy took her by the hand and started leading her across the deck, complaining loudly about his boring punishment from his mother as they wove between busy sailors going about their duties.
Forgive me, Elizabeth. I promise I'll be back soon. I will not let you hang. Will sighed, his gaze turning back to the land swiftly shrinking behind them. Yet even as he turned his attention back to the deck of the Painted Lady, he felt the corners of his mouth twitch up for a split second as he beheld the back of Peggy's copper curls and the warm smile splashed across her face.
It had been a long time since he had seen her smile like that.
Too long.
And though Will Turner knew it was impossible, he hoped she would never stop.
And there we have it! Peggy and Will have finally escaped Beckett with the help of Sloane no less. And poor Jack's all in a panic now, with the Black Spot marking him as prey.
Haha, poor Will's gone through the ringer. He's so confused about everything and his feelings are getting nicely yanked about all over the place. Let's just hope he can survive what's coming next. It won't be long till we get the gang back together, and I am sooo looking forward to it.
Hope you all enjoyed and please keep reading, faving and following for more.
Thanks
Fuzzy-Beta