The Black Pearl glided almost silently, despite its considerable speed. Jack had arranged for all the lights on and below deck to be extinguished. So the Pearl could not be seen.

And despite all these precautions, Jack felt more uncomfortable in his skin than he had in a long time. It was no coincidence that Barbossa had sailed here to Port Royal. No – the captain of the Black Pearl was sure of that.

No sooner had he dropped Rachel off in Port Royal about a week ago and made his way back than Barbossa's ship had come towards him in the distance. Port Royal could be the only destination in that direction, and Jack had the Pearl turned around to head back. The wind had been in their favour and so he increased the distance to Hector considerably. He had only hoped to have more of a lead.

The current course was a jungle-like group of islands. It was not a short voyage and depending on the wind conditions Barbossa could catch up … and Barbossa's crew was far larger than his own.

Rachel approached the helm. Jack successfully ignored her until she cleared her throat.

"Jack? My amulet, is there anything wrong with it? You got weird when you saw it," Rachel began, playing with the pendant on her neck.

Jack took another look at the piece of jewellery, but then he was able to remove all doubt.

"You said it was an inheritance from your father. Who was the man?"

Rachel's gaze clouded over. It was always like this when she thought of her father, who had left her far too early.

"He was the governor's younger brother and the admiral. He was a good man who fought for justice and fell for it in a fight with pirates."

Jack thought about it. It could not have been an ordinary man. There had to be a connection to a certain person, and Jack knew exactly which person that should be.

Now he asked Rachel about her mother, but Rachel had never known her. She had been taken to Port Royal by her father as an infant. Where she was actually born, she did not know. Nor did she know whether her parents had separated in a quarrel or not.

Jack stretched and casually pointed to Rachel's amulet. "Mind if I have a closer look?"

Rachel untied the chain from her neck and held it out to him halfway. Her hand stopped in mid-air and she looked at Jack suspiciously.

"Giving shiny objects to a pirate is probably pretty stupid."

Jack rolled his eyes as she put the chain back on.

"Where are we actually going?" Rachel wanted to know.

"Don't you worry about a thing. You'll miss your wedding and believe me, you'll be grateful. Probably already the day after tomorrow."

To his utter amazement, Rachel smiled.

"You mean I'll regretfully miss my wedding because I'll be kidnapped by pirates?"

Jack no longer understood the world and fled. He had to find out a few things himself first, and that would only happen when he had reached his destination. Until then, no one should bother him with unnecessary and annoying questions or have the audacity to confuse him. He could do that wonderfully well on his own.

For one day only, he had his peace.

Rachel moved back to Gibbs' cabin and the latter had to sleep down on the crew deck, which he did not like.

Jack's fingers ran in circles around the neck of the rum bottle that stood on the table in front of him. There was a knock on the door, and he drank greedily, hoping the occasion that had just knocked would dissipate on its own.

Another hesitant knock, and Jack ruled out a few candidates by process of elimination. Only Ragetti knocked hesitantly and Gibbs when he knew Jack was in a bad mood or when he wanted to get rid of something he was sure would upset Jack. That left Rachel. Jack drank again.

"Come in," he said, and he was right in his conclusion.

Rachel entered and looked back and forth between him and the rum bottle in his hand. The uncertainty found not only in the hesitant knock, but also in her carefully placed steps gave way to the familiar dismissiveness in her eyes that she sent ahead of the pirates.

Jack understood – she had a problem with pirates because of the thing with her father. But that was the only thing he understood about her here. And even then, it wasn't the pirates that were the problem, but her attitude … he lowered his head and ran his hand over his forehead.

"Are you going to say something, or did you just want to come and look at me? I wouldn't mind in principle if it weren't for the disgust and prejudice on your face."

"Drive me back to Port Royal. I have to be there tomorrow. You can charge a much higher ransom than last time – seven hundred guineas, at least."

Eyes still hidden under his hand, Jack smirked. Although she spoke clearly and firmly, he heard her thoughts beset her with doubt. Her first unpractised steps into the world of negotiation and she was so clueless about it.

As if he was interested in gold right now … At all – he certainly couldn't get a reward if he had almost kidnapped her after all. All that would await him in Port Royal was a tight rope around a sturdy beam.

Jack looked at Rachel and suppressed a laugh. He had wondered what would be in the leather suitcase the two ladies had dragged along. Rachel was indeed wearing what in her circles was probably called a nightgown, which stopped just above her ankles. Her hair was loose and curled sideways to the middle of her upper body.

It was night, that was legitimate … but in all the years Jack had spent at sea, such a sight had always eluded him until now. His grin widened and he stood up, sauntering towards her.

"I can't," he said simply.

"What do you mean?"

"Dear, there's no way we can make it to Port Royal in that short time."

He himself was tired. Too many thoughts were fighting incessantly in his head for the upper hand, and had been doing so ever since Rachel had stepped onto the deck of the Pearl again with this pendant. The pendant he just missed around her neck.

"You should not take off the jewellery."

"It interferes with sleeping."

"You're not sleeping."

They both failed to live up to their language skills just then, and Jack pointed to a chair.

"May I help you drown your sorrows?"

The rum in the bottle rang out tantalisingly as Jack swung it around. Shaking her head, Rachel took a seat and Jack sat down directly on the chair next to her.

"I was so stupid," Rachel said with a sigh.

Jack nodded. "Can't disagree with you. You were stupid. Naive and impulsive, I might add."

Rachel raised her head and stared at him, stunned.

Extending his arm to her, Jack offered her the rum again. The back of her hand pushed it back. Jack raised his shoulders, drank and put the bottle down on the table.

"That we will not make it in time is not a lie either?" asked Rachel.

Jack turned his chair towards her, moving barely noticeably closer. Rachel critically observed the shrinking distance and slid to the side.

"No lie. Not even with a sustained astern wind would we be able to do it."

Guilt darkened her eyes, which resembled storm clouds in colour.

"I shouldn't have done that to Clayton," Rachel said, and Jack was aware she was mainly thinking out loud.

"The commodore?"

She nodded.

"It must have been one of Governor Swann's last wishes that I marry the commodore … I have disappointed him many times before and now …"

Jack took another sip. "Dear, Governor Swann – as far as I'm aware – is dead. You won't have another chance to disappoint him."

She expelled her breath noisily and looked at Jack in horror.

"Just saying …," he said, unimpressed, but then became more interested. "Enlighten me. Do you want to miss your feast tomorrow or not? I'm getting very contradicting signals from you."

"It's not about the feast. Naive as I am …," here she looked up in a bad mood, "I had given myself over to the fantasy of getting away forever. To have to marry a stranger – chosen from others."

Jack leaned towards the table and put an elbow on it to rest his head against the hand.

"Then I add imaginatively to the list of words that describe you. You know, we all have to do what others tell us to do at one time or another. Very few of us can avoid it. Take some poor artisan who has to take over his father's business when he would rather be doing something else."

He did not know why he wanted to build up the woman who so willingly flaunted how she despised everything about his existence. He was tired to the bone, but still willing to listen.

"You are a pirate. What do you know about obligations?" asked Rachel.

Jack grinned. "Nothing at all."

"No really. When have you ever, in your opinion, done something that others have told you to do?"

"Ever thought that the commodore might not want to marry you either?," Jack deliberately asked a provocative counter-question.

There was nothing to suggest that she took that as an insult. No, Rachel was silent for a while and looked at the table in front of her. She actually gave herself over to the mind game.

"Quite possibly. But just because it happens to many people doesn't mean it's good and should stay that way."

Jack looked into her thoughtful face. Did he hear a quiet rebellion against convention?

"That's the crux of traditions, dear. Most no longer question them. Habits are so much more comfortable than the unknown …"

His words made her tilt her head slightly to the side and her gaze became more interested.

"Let me understand you: you only came back on a spur of the moment whim because you got cold feet prematurely before your wedding, and now you still want to be a dutiful wife? Because you'd rather give yourself up than disappoint the dead governor and the commodore, aye?"

Again, her answer came only after a while, and Jack's pleasure in the conversation increased. She thought about it – and then shielded her thoughts.

"That is none of your business. All that matters to you is that I want to go back immediately. Our agreement also included you taking me back when I wanted you to."

There it was again, the rejection replacing interest. Rachel looked at him disdainfully and she wanted to push her chair back to stand up. Jack had put his boot around one of the chair legs and was pulling it in his direction. Struggling for balance, her hands gripped around the table-top and her mouth dropped open.

"Dear, we can't get back in time and there are some things concerning you that I would like to get some information about. What do you say? We're heading for an island where there's a person who – in credit to my feminine intuition – I associate with you. Are you interested, or do you insist on going back?"

She wanted to see inside his head, Jack was sure of that, as she slightly pinched her mouth shut. Wanted to know if he was telling the truth. She lacked the means to judge so, and she sighed.

"If I say I want to go back, you'll ignore it anyway, won't you?"

"What exactly have I done to deserve this bad image you have of me? Your choice. We'll turn back if you wish – only we won't arrive in time for your wedding," Jack said and leaned towards her until she flinched.

He sat up straighter and shrugged his shoulders. "Or we will arrive there in two or three days, where I intend to find out something about your origins.

He just couldn't read her face – that annoyed Jack silently. But her hesitation was a clear sign that she was just giving up her reservations. He didn't want to give her time to change that again.

"Why don't you try to enjoy your stay on the Pearl? But it would help if you drank a little rum and loosened up."

Upset and audible, she took a breath and then stood up quickly. Jack did the same and smiled.

Her hand was already around the doorknob when Jack leaned against the dark wood with his upper body and arms folded, blocking her way out. Nevertheless, Rachel pulled at the door, looking at him accusingly without moving any further.

When her second attempt to open the door also failed, she backed away from Jack.

"I wish to end this conversation," she said in a trembling voice.

It pleased Jack perhaps a little too much how she reacted to his pushiness. But only because he knew she had nothing to fear.

"Dear, as you wish and as soon as I feel like it too."

Rachel's lips pressed together loosened, and Jack could also see the tension disappear from her jaw.

She was curious. That was good, it meant she would cooperate. Then all that was left for him to do was to threaten her a little bit.

"Tell me, what was that about you sending indirectly the Royal Navy after me in case you're absent for too long? Am I remembering this correctly?"

Satisfied with this wise precaution, Rachel nodded.

"I see. Do you know how little that helps you? Nothing. You are on the fastest ship in the world – the Black Pearl. No one, really no one, can catch her. Granted, she needs a wind from astern to do so. But when we are on the run, we are very flexible with direction."

Fleetingly, Rachel ran her hand over her collarbone and her gaze went back to the door.

"Let me out," she demanded, managing no more than a whisper.

Hinting at a bow and with a grin on his face, Jack opened the door and she rushed past him outside.