Fic: 'Harry & the Pirate VI: Blood and Treasure (Jack/Harry, etc. - PG-13 - 3/20)

[dwgm]

Chapter Three: Remembering

Anne Norrington and her mother had just come in from yet another shopping expedition when, rather to their surprise, Anne’s father was seen to be descending the stairs in a remarkably sprightly manner for a retired admiral of the Royal Navy.

“My dear,” he said to Mother, who was taking off her gloves, “You must see the letter that came in today’s post! I can hardly credit it myself, I assure you.”

He handed the closely written sheet over to Mother, and then glanced at Anne and actually winked at her!

Mother read quickly, uttering a happy, “Oh!… Oh! ”, and raising one hand to her cheek. “I can’t believe it!”

“But what is it?” Anne demanded, growing impatient with these cryptic ecstasies.

Mother looked up, eyes alight. “The Sparrows are on their way here! They’ll arrive within the fortnight!”

Anne’s heart gave a very odd jump, but she managed to refrain from uttering Tom! for no, that was very much a thing of the past, and she wondered that she could so quickly forget the fact. “How exciting,” she said instead, and forced a smile. “It will be good to see them all again. Daisy will be quite a big girl by now, I daresay.”

“Indeed, she is turned ten, and Tom—” Mother’s smile slipped and she looked suddenly conscious. “Well, it will be wonderful to see him, and Harry and Jack, too. It’s been so long.”

Father said, “Yes, but did you see what Jack said about Wainfleet?”

“I did,” Mother said, and to Anne, “My dear, Wainfleet is… was…”

“Captain Sparrow’s natural father?” Anne supplied, and was amused at her mother’s startled expression. “Tom told me all about it, when I was nine or so.”

Mother was shocked, but Father only gave a wry chuckle and said, “I supposed that was to be expected. But to return to this letter: if what Jack says is accurate, he may be, for all intents and purposes, Wainfleet’s legitimate son and heir to a barony. But I wonder that Jack insists that the papers that have come to light must be forgeries. When an inheritance of such magnitude is involved, solicitors tend to verify the documents very carefully. They would not have written to him, else.”

“But James, it can’t be true,” said Mother. “To have kept such a thing hidden all these years would have been infamous!”

“It would,” Father agreed. “I expect we shall know more within a few weeks.”

Mother nodded, and they put their heads together, reading the letter over again.

Anne slipped away and went quickly up the two flights of stairs and down the hall to her bedroom, situated at the back of the townhouse. The view was not as fine here as it was from some of the other chambers, but the room was quieter – London streets were dreadfully noisy – and she needed quiet just now, and solitude. She went in and shut the door and shed the new hat and shawl and the neatly tied parcels, all of which had seemed such treasures an hour ago, and were now rendered strangely insignificant.

Tom.

She sat down at her dressing table, but found it took an effort to gather enough courage to raise her eyes to the mirror. When she did, she was somewhat relieved that she didn’t appear to be appreciably changed. Hair the same gold. Eyes the same brown. A good complexion, if a trifle pale at the moment. She was not quite as tall as Mother, but she had a neat, slim figure, and years of schooling, both in the seminary and under her Aunt Catherine’s exacting eye, had instilled a modicum of grace and dignity.

She wondered if Tom would even recognize her. When the Black Pearl had sailed, five years ago, she had been twelve and had grown into that horridly awkward stage, entirely lacking in charm.

Though he had kissed her goodbye anyway.

She found herself raising her fingers toward her lips, feeling the touch of his again, after all this time. The only kiss she’d ever permitted a man. Well, boy. But even at fourteen he’d seemed to know what he was about – and where had he learned such a thing? She stopped, looked up to see the color burgeoning in her cheeks, and said to her reflected self, “Oh! You stupid creature!”

But the memories did not fade just because she got up abruptly, went to the bed and threw herself down in a paroxysm of disgust. She felt again the pain of the changes they had both gone through after that memorable voyage to Barbados, which had long seemed the last time she and Tom had been entirely in accord.

They had been parted for months at a time, of course. After Daisy’s birth had been duly celebrated, the Norringtons had sailed home to Port Royal, and Anne had resumed her quiet life, minding her books and learning the skills and deportment required of a lady of breeding. Tom had sailed with his father on the Black Pearl, or had stayed on St. Claire Island if he’d been banished by his father for some misdeed.

Anne had heard her parents discussing the latter issue. Father said that Captain Sparrow was surprisingly squeamish at times, and particularly detested corporal punishment. Rather than endure the offence to his sensibilities occasioned by the ordering and witnessing of a flogging, he had long been in the habit of ejecting the rare errant Pearl at the nearest port. Fortunately, the Pearl was famed for taking rich prizes and never had trouble recruiting able seamen to replace any departed miscreants.

It was different with Tom, of course. Tom loved his father and the Black Pearl, and Jack wanted him to stay. But Tom, who had all his father’s mischievous spirit, had reached the age when a lad could be a serious trial to his father and captain. Jack had reluctantly brought himself to thrash Tom, once on that voyage to Barbados, and again, when they were out on the Pearl about six months later. But after that second instance Jack had declared that he was through putting himself through such anguish, and if Tom misbehaved again he’d be sent back to St. Claire in disgrace.

And Jack had kept his word. Tom was exiled within the year.

Returning to St. Claire under a cloud did not arouse the sympathy of Lady Harry, Rachel, or the Lightfoots, and when he wasn’t studying, Tom was kept hard at work around Island House or the plantation. And in his small amount of free time he discovered that the other St. Claire lads were no longer as deferential to him as they had been in the past, and that finding his niche among them was a demanding process—a process that nearly terminated his friendship with Anne.

Suzanna had been brought to bed of twin girls nine months after Daisy was born, and Anne had accompanied her mother to St. Claire to greet the new arrivals and to help Suzanna in those first demanding weeks of motherhood. Anne had been overjoyed to find that Tom was also in residence, until he’d told her precisely why. He seemed angry with everyone, including himself, but he spurned Anne’s pity for once, and even went so far as to reject her company entirely, calling her a “little girl” before the other boys. Anne was devastated.

When the twins were two weeks old, the Black Pearl had returned to St. Claire, just long enough to allow her crew to admire the little ones, enjoy home comforts, and replenish the water casks. Tom’s hope of regaining his place on his father’s ship was soon dashed, however. Captain Sparrow was far from pleased with the reports he was given of his son’s conduct, and with what he observed himself. And Tom, on hearing that he was to remain on St. Claire for the time being, protested in so unrestrained a manner that his father hauled him off to the library and slammed the door, partially muffling the ensuing reprimand, but not entirely: the words “insolent brat”, “miserable scrub”, and “damned lubber” were distinctly heard, along with a promise that, if the situation didn’t improve dramatically by the time the Pearl came back again, Tom’s father would surely steel himself to do his duty though it killed him and Tom both.

Fortunately, the situation did improve, and with surprising speed.

The Pearl had sailed the following morning, and by that afternoon Tom had disappeared. “He’ll be back when he gets hungry enough,” Rachel had assured Lady Harry. But Tom’s mother looked so very sad that Anne’s anger was roused, and she determined she would find him and reiterate his father’s epithet: miserable scrub!

It took her nearly an hour, but as she’d expected he was in one of his hiding places, the many locations of which he’d revealed to her in years past, in happier times. But she hadn’t expected him to look quite so ravaged, or his dirty face to be quite so streaked with tears. Her anger could not hold. She hesitantly approached him, and this time he did not distain her sympathy.

Things had changed. Their friendship was not the same. But when it was time to go home again, Anne and Tom parted on better terms, far better than she'd thought possible only a fortnight before.

Tom did eventually return to the Black Pearl, but not for long. Exiled to St. Claire again within a few months, Tom remained there until he finally turned twelve years of age and Captain Sparrow told him he might go to sea once more – on the Zephyr, commanded by her newly made captain, Michael Owens.

It wasn’t what Tom had wanted. Anne heard that he’d refused to salute his father, or even acknowledge his existence, when the Zephyr took leave of the Black Pearl. But in spite of this poor beginning, Captain Sparrow was found to have acted wisely: the subsequent two years under Michael’s command had been the making of Tom, as the saying went.

Even after Tom’s first year on the Zephyr, when the ship put in to Port Royal and lingered to allow for some necessary repairs, Anne’s father was moved to say that Mr. Sparrow appeared to have put the rough ground of early adolescence behind him, and was on his way to becoming the consummate sailor they’d always known he could be. Father had invited Michael and Tom to dinner shortly after the Zephyr’s arrival, and as Anne had not seen Tom in over a year, she too was very impressed, and somewhat startled, with the changes in her old friend. He had grown in so many ways.

But the rift that had formed between them at the time of her nieces’ birth had never entirely healed, and now there was the additional awkwardness of her own budding maturity. She could not seem to help blushing hotly at his glance, or stammering like a goose when she tried to converse with him. And then she found that even a casual touch of his hand upon hers made her insides shiver in a way that was truly disconcerting. She was relieved when his duties aboard ship prevented his visiting much, and took care that she never met him alone when he did. After two weeks, Anne watched the Zephyr’s departure from the window of her bedroom, and one sad truth emerged from her miserably chaotic thoughts: there was no going back.

It was somewhat easier a few months later, when the families gathered for a grand Christmas in Port Royal. And then, after he’d turned fourteen, Tom returned to Port Royal for the last time, on the Black Pearl. The long-planned Voyage of Trade and Exploration was to become a reality at last, a voyage to the far side of the world, and the Sparrows might be gone for years.

She might never see Tom again.

Anne could tell that Tom was overjoyed at his reconciliation with his father and at the prospect of a protracted voyage on the Pearl. But he gave clear hints that he was sad to be leaving her behind, as well, and on the last evening, when everyone was gathered at Governor Swann’s mansion for a farewell banquet, Anne took Tom’s insistent hand and followed him outside, into the gardens.

They walked together, quite alone, out to a grove of palms that grew near the cliff’s edge, overlooking the harbor, and stood in the shadows of the trees.

Anne broke the awkward silence. “She’s beautiful.” The Black Pearl looked her part, small and perfect at the distant dock, a ship of dreams.

“She is,” Tom agreed, but then he lifted Anne’s hand, and as she turned to him she saw that his words had been meant for her.

She felt suddenly breathless. He’s going to kiss my hand, she thought. But he hesitated, his crooked smile fading, then pulled her toward him, bent, and kissed her lips. She gave a startled, devastated gasp: “Tom!” and then his arms were about her, and she permitted it, permitted herself that one moment, before pushing him away. “Tom, no! I can’t bear it!”

He kept hold of her hands. “I’ll miss you, Anne.”

She was willing herself not to cry, but his face was a blur as she said, “Will you write to me?”

Will you remember me at all?

“Of course I will!” he’d declared.

Oh, that smile, and the light in his eyes.

He had written, a few times, and her parents had been kind enough to allow her to read and reply. But they needn’t have worried: his letters became fewer, then stopped altogether by the second year. Lady Harry would add Tom’s greetings at the end of her own missives, but it wasn’t the same.

When she was fourteen, Anne began a new life. Father’s sister, Aunt Caroline, now a widow, had come to visit for a few months. She had deigned to approve of her niece, though not of die-away airs or the light promises of sailor lads, and had suggested that Anne would benefit from a change of scenery and from some polishing at one of the select seminaries for young ladies that were to be found near fashionable Bath, where Aunt made her home. Aunt Caroline said that in three years’ time, Anne would be ready to make her debut into society, James and Maggie could join them in London, and Anne would no doubt contract a marriage that would bring honor and great good fortune to the Norrington family.

The predictions had all come true – or were about to, at least, if Hartfield came up to scratch, as Aunt Caroline vulgarly put it. Cecil Price, sixth Earl of Hartfield. A good-looking man of thirty, well-liked, wealthy, and apparently besotted with Anne – a succession of floral offerings had been gracing the drawing room of the Norringtons’ rented townhome for several weeks, since the day after they’d met at the first ball of the season. Aunt Caroline approved unequivocally, and though Mother had said that there was no need to rush into anything, Anne could see that she and Father were very pleased as well.

It was an excellent match, and Anne knew she should have been ecstatic. She’d tried to be ecstatic. But the fact was, she wasn’t. Whether it was maidenly reserve, or only empty-headed frivolity, she had been dreading the thought of Hartfield making her an offer.

And now this.

She set her teeth, staring up at the elaborately embroidered canopy over her bed, but seeing a handsome boy’s dark eyes and crooked grin.

“Bloody hell! ” she said, aloud, and hardly knew whether to laugh or cry.



Continued in Chapter Four: Reunion

Comments

[torn-eledhwen.livejournal.com]

Hurrah! Can't wait for their reunion (have you finished this already? The chapters are appearing with remarkable frequency.) :)

[geekmama.livejournal.com]

have you finished this already? The chapters are appearing with remarkable frequency.

I have indeed finished it, just have to pop in the coding and post it a chapter a day. I thought it would relieve those post-holiday blues somewhat.

Reunion coming, though not tomorrow. First things first. Thank you so much for reading and commenting. I appreciate it so much!

[florencia7.livejournal.com]

You're an amazing storyteller. I was so completely oblivious to the real world while reading this chapter. I LOVED it. Anne & Tom are such interesting characters.

I can't wait for the next chapter!! :)

[geekmama.livejournal.com]

I do love Tom and Anne, they are a lot of fun to write, and it makes me so happy that you and other readers like them, too.

Next chapter coming up in the morning--my morning, that is, over here on the left coast ;) Thank you so much for reading and commenting!

[tndixie.livejournal.com]

I love this story "Jack and Harry" oh my gosh Tom is just so Jack no wonder they drive each other nuts. Anne and Tom (wish we had a picture of Tom) what an interesting relationship.

[geekmama.livejournal.com]

Tom and Jack are much alike in many ways, a circumstance that sometimes makes for a rocky relationship between father and son. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! Thank you very much for commenting.

[compassrose7577.livejournal.com]

The passing of the ages is always interesting. This is well-framed against a world where "snail mail" meant a two or three month journey. The letter was all they had, and yet such a thin, tenuous connection those could be.

The second generations can often be a bit difficult to draw the reader into, but you've done it masterfully.

Good stuff.

[geekmama.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much. It makes me happy to know that you and others enjoy Tom and Anne.

That problem of communication -- it's difficult to relate to that situation with all our computers and ability to chat even with folks halfway around the world instantly. In the Age of Sail things were so very different.

[pearlseed.livejournal.com]

Damn Tom~! wretched boy and yes, precious beyond thinking and Jack...Jack who never turned from what had to be done...and yet beating the child didn't produce the changes--And blessed baby Anne who suffered, suffers for the love of her first. What a precious sweet kiss--how his heart must have been pounding that he knew he was going to do this and I can understand that Anne would be irate that he had such knowledge and it wasn't with her.

Ohmyword!

[geekmama.livejournal.com]

Into every young life some rain must fall -- which makes the happy times all the sweeter. More in the morning! Thank you so much for reading and letting me know it all rang true.

*hugs*