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Fic: 'Harry & the Pirate V: Caribbean Quests' (Jack/Harry (OFC), etc. etc. - PG-13 - 3/7)
Isn't it still Sunday somewhere? I guess not. RL caught up with me in the last few days, but better late than never, right? Here's Chapter Three of Harry & the Pirate V: Caribbean Quests, with thanks to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
luvvycat and hereswith for beta reading.
Chapter One | Chapter Two |
Chapter Three
Charles and Lucia Norrington, along with their three month old son, Francis Michael, had returned to Port Royal the week following the departure of the Black Pearl, but though Harry had encouraged her brother to do the same (“Indeed, Weatherby, you are very kind, but you must not continue to neglect your duty to the citizens of Port Royal on my account!”), Governor Swann had weighed the matter in his ponderous fashion and Family Obligation had tipped the scale. He trusted his staff to see to things in Jamaica and he would stay on at St. Claire, a prop to his little sister in her time of need.
Harry tried to be amused by his complacent presumption, but failed much of the time.
Jack had been gone ten days when she said to Elizabeth, with some asperity, “I can’t imagine what your father thinks he could do to help were I brought to bed untimely. And I am still perfectly capable of managing affairs on St. Claire!”
“Don’t worry, Aunt, Giles Lightfoot has taken him off your hands today,” Elizabeth replied, somewhat absently, for the governor’s grandson, her darling nine month old William Weatherby, was eagerly partaking of his breakfast as she rocked him in the warmth and light of the morning room.
“Is that where he’s gone?” Maggie said as she came in, looking so tall and elegant and composed that Harry gave a discouraged sigh.
“Oh, dear. What was that phrase of Suzanna’s? You make me feel a positive lump?”
Maggie shook her head, lips pursed against laughter. “For shame, Harry! Do bear up. It’s only a few more weeks.”
“I’m afraid I’m ready to be done now, however,” Harry said, with a roll of her eyes. By way of changing the subject, she asked, “How do my godchildren fare this morning?” Maggie and James’s twins, Henry James and John William, each had a toddler’s talent for keeping a household on its metaphorical toes.
“They are being quite angelic this morning, as is Julietta. She is feeding them porridge and milk and says she will take them out to build a sandcastle after that, so I am free to break my fast with you. Do Weatherby and Giles plan to join us?”
“No, they’ve ridden off, gone over to inspect some of the more distant settlements on the north side of the island. We’ll have a quiet afternoon, all to ourselves.”
In this, however, Harry was mistaken. An hour later the three ladies were lingering over the remains of their repast when there came a brief knock on the door and Rachel gleefully announced Mr. O’Brien of the Black Pearl.
Harry almost dropped her cup as he entered the room. “O’Brien! How did you get here? Is the Black Pearl back?”
“No, ma’am,” O’Brien said, taking off his hat and bowing to her. “There was a bit of a dust-up, what with the weather and some ugly customers we ran across when we were stopped for repairs. The long and short of it is, we took a prize, as pretty a cutter as you could wish for. The admiral’s going to keep her as a tender for the Dauntless, and Captain Jack, he sent her back with me in charge of the prize crew, and with letters for you ladies, as well.” He pulled a sheaf of envelopes from an inner pocket of his coat.
“Oh, let me see!” Harry sprang up.
As he handed Harry her letter, O’Brien said quietly, “He sends his dear love,” and what with those words, and the sight of Jack’s seal and her name written in his beautiful, spidery handwriting, tears briefly blurred her vision. She went to sit on a chair by the window and spread out the pages.
Harry wasn’t certain if she was thrilled or appalled at this informative missive, and she looked up to observe Maggie’s reaction to the letter James had sent. Her friend was smiling as she finished it. Harry asked, “How is Anne doing, Maggie?”
“James says she is thoroughly enjoying the adventure. I’m so happy I allowed her to go. ”
“Will writes that Tom has been leading Anne astray,” Elizabeth said, and Harry was envisioning what she’d say to Will Turner, Tale Bearer, when next they met, but then her niece added, “He does not go into detail, however. Did Jack say anything about them? Aunt Harry? Is something wrong?”
Harry straightened abruptly. “Nothing is wrong. Nothing at all.” And she put on her best smile by way of proof.
*
On this last beautiful evening at Parrot Cove, Sweets Island, Suzanna Owens should have been filled with contentment, considering the amazing events she’d been a part of in the last week. The crew of the Black Pearl had earned the gratitude of the people of Sweets Island, the defeated renegades having been locked in the Pearl’s brig to be turned in to the authorities in Bridgetown, Barbados. The Pearl herself was now repaired and more beautiful than ever. All the men who had been injured in storm or raid were healing well. And everyone else, including herself, had benefited from the hospitality of the inhabitants, who had not only given them a wonderful feast to celebrate the defeat of the Spaniards, but had taken great pleasure in showing off many aspects of their lives and their island home. Sweets Island might be small, but it was a lovely place.
Particularly the hot springs pool.
She’d been drawn to the pool from the first time she’d seen it, but when one of the women – a girl, really, though already a wife and mother – communicated to Suzanna that the warm waters were said to be particularly beneficial to females of childbearing age, healing and promoting life, an idea had taken root and the fact that it had not yet born fruit distressed her.
It had been more than a year since she’d lost her first child. It had been a terrible experience, to be sure, but she’d been attended by Lady Harry and Elizabeth Turner – for they’d all been returning from Italy on the Black Pearl – and she had healed now, quite thoroughly, in body and mind, and was ready to try again. Unfortunately, Michael had other ideas.
She knew that Michael’s care of her, his restraint, his patience, was a sign of his love for her. Somehow he had gained a great deal of knowledge in the ways a man could give and receive satisfaction without endangering his bride with an ill-timed pregnancy, and they were delightful indeed. But this past week, watching the native women interacting with their darling children, and flirting with their men, Suzanna’s longing for a child, and for more complete relations with her husband, had not only revived but had reached a fever pitch.
She rose from where she was sitting, on a rock at the edge of the cove. The sun would soon set. Michael was among those loading the last of the boats for the short journey out to the Black Pearl, but there were plenty of men to help, and Captain Sparrow himself was in charge. Taking a deep breath, her heart thudding, she walked purposefully up the beach, passing close to where Michael was working, and then on toward the forest.
*
“Where’s your wife headed?” asked the captain.
Michael looked up from the knot he was tying and saw Suzanna, up the beach now, headed toward the forest. “I don’t know!” he replied, bemused. He called sharply, “Suzanna! ”, but she made no reply, just kept walking. A slow sway of skirts. Pale hair glinting in the light of the Westering sun. “What’s gotten into her?” he wondered aloud, then looked at the captain and found the kohl-rimmed eyes sparking with amusement. “What?” Michael demanded.
“You are slow on the uptake today,” Jack said, and grinned. “I’ll bet me boots she’s off to that hot springs pool, the one the native women were on about.”
Michael frowned. “She knows we’re catching our tide in two hours.”
“That’s the plan. So you’d best not lose track of time, eh?”
Michael felt his face getting warm. He cleared his throat. “I’ll go fetch her then, shall I?”
“Aye. Or she’ll fetch you.” Jack winked.
And now it was Michael’s turn to grin. “Thanks, Captain. We’ll be back in time,” he said, and he turned to trot up the beach after his wife.
On to Chapter Four
luvvycat and hereswith for beta reading.Chapter One | Chapter Two |
Chapter Three
Charles and Lucia Norrington, along with their three month old son, Francis Michael, had returned to Port Royal the week following the departure of the Black Pearl, but though Harry had encouraged her brother to do the same (“Indeed, Weatherby, you are very kind, but you must not continue to neglect your duty to the citizens of Port Royal on my account!”), Governor Swann had weighed the matter in his ponderous fashion and Family Obligation had tipped the scale. He trusted his staff to see to things in Jamaica and he would stay on at St. Claire, a prop to his little sister in her time of need.
Harry tried to be amused by his complacent presumption, but failed much of the time.
Jack had been gone ten days when she said to Elizabeth, with some asperity, “I can’t imagine what your father thinks he could do to help were I brought to bed untimely. And I am still perfectly capable of managing affairs on St. Claire!”
“Don’t worry, Aunt, Giles Lightfoot has taken him off your hands today,” Elizabeth replied, somewhat absently, for the governor’s grandson, her darling nine month old William Weatherby, was eagerly partaking of his breakfast as she rocked him in the warmth and light of the morning room.
“Is that where he’s gone?” Maggie said as she came in, looking so tall and elegant and composed that Harry gave a discouraged sigh.
“Oh, dear. What was that phrase of Suzanna’s? You make me feel a positive lump?”
Maggie shook her head, lips pursed against laughter. “For shame, Harry! Do bear up. It’s only a few more weeks.”
“I’m afraid I’m ready to be done now, however,” Harry said, with a roll of her eyes. By way of changing the subject, she asked, “How do my godchildren fare this morning?” Maggie and James’s twins, Henry James and John William, each had a toddler’s talent for keeping a household on its metaphorical toes.
“They are being quite angelic this morning, as is Julietta. She is feeding them porridge and milk and says she will take them out to build a sandcastle after that, so I am free to break my fast with you. Do Weatherby and Giles plan to join us?”
“No, they’ve ridden off, gone over to inspect some of the more distant settlements on the north side of the island. We’ll have a quiet afternoon, all to ourselves.”
In this, however, Harry was mistaken. An hour later the three ladies were lingering over the remains of their repast when there came a brief knock on the door and Rachel gleefully announced Mr. O’Brien of the Black Pearl.
Harry almost dropped her cup as he entered the room. “O’Brien! How did you get here? Is the Black Pearl back?”
“No, ma’am,” O’Brien said, taking off his hat and bowing to her. “There was a bit of a dust-up, what with the weather and some ugly customers we ran across when we were stopped for repairs. The long and short of it is, we took a prize, as pretty a cutter as you could wish for. The admiral’s going to keep her as a tender for the Dauntless, and Captain Jack, he sent her back with me in charge of the prize crew, and with letters for you ladies, as well.” He pulled a sheaf of envelopes from an inner pocket of his coat.
“Oh, let me see!” Harry sprang up.
As he handed Harry her letter, O’Brien said quietly, “He sends his dear love,” and what with those words, and the sight of Jack’s seal and her name written in his beautiful, spidery handwriting, tears briefly blurred her vision. She went to sit on a chair by the window and spread out the pages.
Parrot Cove, Sweets Island
Dear Mrs. Sparrow,
I trust this finds you well and enjoying your visit with Maggie and Elizabeth (and your brother– don’t let him drive you distracted).
The pleasure cruise you foretold has so far failed to materialize and as a result we have been delayed by a week. Two days out we encountered a lightning storm that destroyed the mainmast. There was one dead (his name was Beech, new to the Pearl), and six injured, as well, so we ran for Sweets Island (it’s not on the map, so don’t bother looking), and have been laid up here in Parrot Cove (nice place, sandy beach bordering some pretty tropical forest – you’d like it, particularly the hot springs pool that’s a short hike from here, an ideal spot for getting reacquainted, if you know what I mean), making repairs to both ship and crew.
The cutter’s a gift from your son, as he spotted it first. While the storm raged (quite spectacular, give you my word), I’d ordered him to stay in the cabin with Suzanna and Anne, but when he heard the noise of the mast shattering he came running out and was near swept away again, the waves were washing over the deck something fierce. Later, after we got the Pearl settled in Parrot Cove, I threatened him with a dire reckoning in the morning, but I was up and doing for several hours before I remembered – or James reminded me, really – and by that time both Tom and Anne had scarpered, tricked Gibbs into taking them over to the island and then went off exploring on their own. You may imagine my feelings on that score. And James’s. Will laughed (I wager he’ll be laughing out the other side of his face in a couple of years) but offered to go hunt them down while we continued work on the ship.
I daresay you’ll be relieved to hear Tom and Anne’s skins are quite intact. Will found them and they all came running back with a tale of some very nasty doings, Spanish renegades had taken over the native village that lies some distance around the island from Parrot Cove and were enslaving and abusing the inhabitants. Will told us about their cutter, too, and how it looked to be riding low in the water. All in all it seemed worthwhile to investigate.
We took a fair sized company, armed to the teeth, of course, and it ended with a nice little contretemps in which we emerged victorious, freeing the inhabitants and taking the cutter with its not inconsiderable cargo – the Spaniards had been busy for some time, it seems. And I have to admit it was fortuitous that I allowed Tom to come along on the expedition. I instructed him to stay hidden, but he was armed with his knife and all that practice he’s been doing paid off. I was in the middle of a scuffle and caught my heel on a tree root, and Tom jumped out, threw his knife, and sunk it deep in my opponent’s shoulder, tipping the scales. Tom’s a good lad. Most of the time.
The people of the island gave us a celebratory feast and have been helping us with the Pearl, and our injured, too; they employ some very efficacious remedies. Both ship and crew should be fit to sail tomorrow, but I’m sending the cutter back to you, along with this letter. Let me assure you, we shall make all haste to Barbados -- be back before you even miss us.
With warmest affection, I am as ever, etc.,
Jack
Harry wasn’t certain if she was thrilled or appalled at this informative missive, and she looked up to observe Maggie’s reaction to the letter James had sent. Her friend was smiling as she finished it. Harry asked, “How is Anne doing, Maggie?”
“James says she is thoroughly enjoying the adventure. I’m so happy I allowed her to go. ”
“Will writes that Tom has been leading Anne astray,” Elizabeth said, and Harry was envisioning what she’d say to Will Turner, Tale Bearer, when next they met, but then her niece added, “He does not go into detail, however. Did Jack say anything about them? Aunt Harry? Is something wrong?”
Harry straightened abruptly. “Nothing is wrong. Nothing at all.” And she put on her best smile by way of proof.
*
On this last beautiful evening at Parrot Cove, Sweets Island, Suzanna Owens should have been filled with contentment, considering the amazing events she’d been a part of in the last week. The crew of the Black Pearl had earned the gratitude of the people of Sweets Island, the defeated renegades having been locked in the Pearl’s brig to be turned in to the authorities in Bridgetown, Barbados. The Pearl herself was now repaired and more beautiful than ever. All the men who had been injured in storm or raid were healing well. And everyone else, including herself, had benefited from the hospitality of the inhabitants, who had not only given them a wonderful feast to celebrate the defeat of the Spaniards, but had taken great pleasure in showing off many aspects of their lives and their island home. Sweets Island might be small, but it was a lovely place.
Particularly the hot springs pool.
She’d been drawn to the pool from the first time she’d seen it, but when one of the women – a girl, really, though already a wife and mother – communicated to Suzanna that the warm waters were said to be particularly beneficial to females of childbearing age, healing and promoting life, an idea had taken root and the fact that it had not yet born fruit distressed her.
It had been more than a year since she’d lost her first child. It had been a terrible experience, to be sure, but she’d been attended by Lady Harry and Elizabeth Turner – for they’d all been returning from Italy on the Black Pearl – and she had healed now, quite thoroughly, in body and mind, and was ready to try again. Unfortunately, Michael had other ideas.
She knew that Michael’s care of her, his restraint, his patience, was a sign of his love for her. Somehow he had gained a great deal of knowledge in the ways a man could give and receive satisfaction without endangering his bride with an ill-timed pregnancy, and they were delightful indeed. But this past week, watching the native women interacting with their darling children, and flirting with their men, Suzanna’s longing for a child, and for more complete relations with her husband, had not only revived but had reached a fever pitch.
She rose from where she was sitting, on a rock at the edge of the cove. The sun would soon set. Michael was among those loading the last of the boats for the short journey out to the Black Pearl, but there were plenty of men to help, and Captain Sparrow himself was in charge. Taking a deep breath, her heart thudding, she walked purposefully up the beach, passing close to where Michael was working, and then on toward the forest.
*
“Where’s your wife headed?” asked the captain.
Michael looked up from the knot he was tying and saw Suzanna, up the beach now, headed toward the forest. “I don’t know!” he replied, bemused. He called sharply, “Suzanna! ”, but she made no reply, just kept walking. A slow sway of skirts. Pale hair glinting in the light of the Westering sun. “What’s gotten into her?” he wondered aloud, then looked at the captain and found the kohl-rimmed eyes sparking with amusement. “What?” Michael demanded.
“You are slow on the uptake today,” Jack said, and grinned. “I’ll bet me boots she’s off to that hot springs pool, the one the native women were on about.”
Michael frowned. “She knows we’re catching our tide in two hours.”
“That’s the plan. So you’d best not lose track of time, eh?”
Michael felt his face getting warm. He cleared his throat. “I’ll go fetch her then, shall I?”
“Aye. Or she’ll fetch you.” Jack winked.
And now it was Michael’s turn to grin. “Thanks, Captain. We’ll be back in time,” he said, and he turned to trot up the beach after his wife.
On to Chapter Four