Fic: 'Harry & the Pirate V: Caribbean Quests' (Jack/Harry (OFC), etc. etc. - PG-13 - 1/?)
Here, at long last, is the fifth multi-chaptered story in the Harry & the Pirate series. The series is a post-CotBP A/U, and I wrote much of the first story in late 2003, before I even knew there was such a thing as fanfiction on the internet, lol! Many thanks to all of you who have let me know that you have enjoyed and continue to enjoy the Harry & the Pirate stories, and to hereswith for her mad beta skilz and constant support.
I hope to post every Sunday, and this one should be between five and seven chapters. The story begins about five months after the end of Harry & the Pirate IV: The Chalice of St. Francis...
Chapter One
“I’d like to propose a toast,” Jack Sparrow said, standing and raising his glass. He gazed with great pleasure down the length of the carved oak table where his family and guests were seated, less according to etiquette than predilection.
Governor Weatherby Swann sat at the far end, obviously pleased to be flanked by two beauties, his own daughter Elizabeth on his right and Admiral Norrington’s charming Spanish daughter-in-law, Lucia, on his left. The two young wives had been granted the indulgence of sitting beside their beloveds, as had Suzanna Owens, seated between her older brother, Lucia’s Charles, and her own husband, Michael, who’d risen from skinny cabin boy to Boatswain of the Black Pearl under Jack’s tutelage. Across from Suzanna sat her pretty but somewhat spoiled younger sister, Julietta, currently minding her manners between Will Turner and her father, the admiral. Little Anne Norrington, seven years old now, sat on the admiral’s other hand, eyes cast down on this momentous occasion - her first time dining with the grown-ups here at Island House - apparently (and understandably) terrified of being betrayed into giggles by the faces Jack’s miscreant son was pulling from across the table.
Jack narrowed his eyes at Tom, and Michael Owens gave the lad a sharp reminder with an elbow.
On Jack’s right, his darling Harry said, in that guilt-inducing tone common to all mothers, “Tom! Show Anne how well you can behave at table!”
Anne’s mother, Margaret, on Jack’s left, nodded. “Indeed, you would not wish to be banished to the nursery!”
“Would too, if Anne could come,” Tom had the audacity to mutter.
Jack glared, considering modes of retribution, and Harry said, “I beg your pardon?”
Tom, finally summoning the wit to see that he was headed toward a lee shore, abruptly lost his sullen mien. “Sorry,” he said, straightening in his chair, and had the grace to appear to be at least a little abashed when he looked at Jack. “A toast, sir?”
“Aye,” said Jack, his tone too sharp. He reined in his temper and looked about him again, at all the well-loved faces. “To family and friends, and blessings great and small.”
“Hear, hear!” Harry agreed, lifting her own glass of iced wine, and she patted the evidence of Jack’s affection that swelled beneath her gown of French silk.
Six more weeks.
Jack felt his smile fade and he tossed off his wine rather abruptly.
*
Tom and Anne had been allowed to escape to their play when the ladies retired to the parlour after dinner, leaving the men to their postprandial libations according to established custom. Lady Harry sank into her favorite overstuffed chair and sighed contentedly, waving away the tray of sweets presented for her delectation.
“I couldn’t eat another bite!” she exclaimed. “Just a cup of tea, if you please, Rachel.”
Rachel nodded approval, but Elizabeth shook her head. “You barely ate tonight, Aunt. Are you sure you’re not feeling unwell?”
“Not at all. It’s only that the baby is growing so large. You must remember. It’s been less than a year since you were delivered of dear little William Weatherby.”
“I don’t really. I never did lose my appetite.”
Maggie said, “I’m afraid it’s due to your scant inches, Harry dear. I had some digestive difficulties when I was carrying the twins, but not with any of the others.”
Harry pouted. “You are very cruel to gloat. I can’t help my scant inches. I always wished to be tall and willowy. I even bought some horrid physic once, when I was a girl, and dosed myself with it for an entire summer. Dr. Henry’s Supreme Elixir, Guaranteed to achieve an Increase in Height of up to five inches or your money cheerfully refunded.”
“And did they refund it, Aunt?” asked Elizabeth slyly.
Harry pulled a face at her saucy niece.
“See?” said Elizabeth to Suzanna. “That’s where Tom gets it.”
Suzanna laughed, but said to Harry, “Oh, no! You are exquisite, ma’am! Why, I always feel a positive lump beside you.”
It was Harry’s turn to laugh at this, for Maggie’s fair-haired daughter had a grace and beauty that was quite out of the ordinary, and even Maggie, who tried to discourage vanity in her undeniably attractive offspring, said, “Suzanna, don’t be absurd. And don’t encourage Harry, she is only fishing for compliments.”
“Very true,” Elizabeth said, with a fond smile.
“I’m not!” Harry protested. “Though thank goodness I have Jack here to make me feel beautiful. One would think he likes making love to a woman swollen to twice her usual size. Oh, dear!” Harry’s smile vanished and she scanned the room. “Where’s Julietta?”
“It’s all right, Aunt,” Elizabeth said wryly. “She’s gone off to Jack’s library again, I believe.”
“Still studying Latin? How very admirable, to be sure. She’ll be turning into a bluestocking, next.”
“Not at all,” Maggie chuckled. “She is learning Latin to impress our new vicar at Port Royal. He is very young and good-looking, and highly-educated.”
“A paragon!” Harry observed.
Lucia shook her head. “He is very dull, even if he is so handsome. I find it most surprising she should be attracted to him.”
“Perhaps that’s why she likes him,” mused Elizabeth. “She’s very lively herself.”
“Most girls are lively at twelve,” said Maggie, with a wry smile. “She is too young to form a lasting attachment, but we’ve had the gentleman to dine twice now and he’s taken the time to sit and converse with her in his quiet, reasonable way. She’s come to fairly dote on him. His manners are just what they should be, of course, but I believe his regard for her may be genuine. If so, I’d thank God for it - she’s had an eye for the most unsuitable creatures all this past year!”
Harry shook her head. “Be careful, Maggie. I remember being twelve.”
“Yes, I remember you at twelve, too. It’s well that Jack was out of the country by then.”
“Oh, no, he wouldn’t have looked at me! I was a thin little thing, with freckles on my nose.”
“Harry, as much as he enjoys your person, it’s you, your spirit he loves. That’s why he likes making love to a woman swollen to twice her usual size, as you say. Which is not true, by the way. You look beautiful. I’m so relieved you’re feeling well this time!”
“No more than I!” said Harry. She sobered. “I knew something was wrong five years ago, but there was nothing I could do, nothing Jack could have done.” Sudden tears made her blink; but then she took a deep breath and smiled. “This time it’s different, more like it was with Tom. I only wish I could convince Jack of that!”
There were murmurs of agreement, and Elizabeth said, “I’ve seen how he watches you. But surely all of us coming to visit here will take his mind from too much worry.”
Harry sighed. “He vows he won’t let me out of his sight. The Pearl’s been here somewhat over two weeks and already I feel…”
“Persecuted?” Elizabeth supplied.
“Oh, no!” Harry protested. Then added, ruefully, “Well, perhaps. Smothered in cotton wool, at least. But indeed, you must not say anything to him.” She looked at all of them, earnestly. “He tries so hard -- too hard, because he is usually away so much of the time.”
“Aunt, it’s not good for you or him!”
Maggie nodded. “Elizabeth is right. I hope that James and Will can get him to see reason. Perhaps they can go out on the Pearl for a few days, on a fishing expedition. With the rest of us here surely his mind will be easy.”
Harry nodded, though she didn’t look as though she had much confidence in the scheme coming to fruition. Then she said, quietly, “Do you know what I’d really like?”
“What?” said Elizabeth, leaning forward with a frown.
“I’d like him to go fetch Madame Juju.”
Everyone stared, and then Elizabeth exclaimed, “Aunt! That’s perfect!”
Lucia frowned. “Isn’t that the midwife on Barbados?”
“Yes! She’s very fierce, but she knows exactly what she’s doing.”
Maggie said, “All the women of Barbados revere her and her daughters,” and then she chuckled. “Jack didn’t much like her. She has no opinion of men.”
“She was kinder to Will,” Elizabeth said, “but yes, she attended me at William Weatherby’s birth, and though I found her of the greatest help, she and Jack were not on good terms.”
“They why would he bring her here, to St. Claire?” Lucia asked.
“Because he may not like her, but he trusts her,” said Suzanna, who remembered much too clearly those dreadful hours before they’d reached Barbados on their way back from Italy, when Elizabeth was in such pain and fear. Suzanna wondered that her friend could speak so lightly about it, now.
Harry nodded. “I think it would make him feel better about everything, and I know it would ease my own lesser anxieties. And dear Rachel has threatened to talk to him about it herself. She knows Madame Juju, though by her African name, Yewande Zola - Rachel says that means tranquil mother returns, and nothing could be more appropriate.”
Maggie said, firmly, “You must tell him at once, Harry. There’s still plenty of time for him to sail to Barbados and back. James and Will could go with him, to keep him company. They won’t let him worry himself into a decline! Do you want us to help you? I daresay the gentlemen will be joining us in a few minutes.”
Harry looked uncertainly at the door. “No, I don’t think it would answer. Let me put it to him tonight, after we… after we retire.”
“He’ll be as putty in your hands,” Elizabeth said, with a grin.
Harry blushed, but did not deny it. “It would be the perfect solution. And if he is not entirely convinced, perhaps you can help persuade him when we gather for breakfast in the morning.”
*
In the event, additional persuasion wasn’t necessary.
After the anticipated instance of marital relations, the stunning culmination of which could only be described by the use of the most extravagant superlatives (Truly, Harry thought, this is an effect of child bearing that is never discussed - and it should be!), Jack and Harry lay atop the sheet (the covers somehow having been shoved to the foot of the bed), holding hands and staring up at the shadowed ceiling, catching their breaths, hearts gradually slowing. Eventually Harry gave a start, realizing she’d been on the edge of sleep, and that Jack’s breathing was turning to a light snore. She turned to him, and ran her hand across the smooth skin of his chest to his shoulder. “Jack…”
He woke. “Hmmm… mmm… that was good, love. So good.” He rolled to face her, eyes drifting half open. “You all right?”
Harry’s heart swelled, and she moved to kiss his lips, his cheeks, grieving that she might be set to inflict a wound upon him. “I’m fine. Perfect.”
He smiled and pulled her close, hands roaming, but without urgency now, caressing with leisurely tenderness. She savored it, and willed her own hands to memorize the feel of him, until he said, in a low, knowing voice, “Then what’s wrong?”
She froze. Swallowed hard. And blurted, “Jack? Will you do something for me?”
He drew back his head and looked down his nose at her. “Didn’t I just finish doing something for you, greedy wench?”
Harry laughed at that and kissed him again. “You did, and it was heavenly-“
“Not heavenly, don’t do that sort of thing in heaven, it’d be sacrilegious, love.”
“Then I, for one, won’t go there!”
“And I for two, like as not,” Jack agreed. “So now that we’ve settled the afterlife, what’s wrong?”
Harry, seeing there was nothing for it, took a deep breath and said, “Will you take the Pearl and go to Barbados to fetch Madame Juju and bring her here to attend me when I am brought to bed?” He opened his mouth to speak, but she rushed on. “Oh, Jack, it would make me feel so much better about everything, and you too, though I know you don’t like her, and you could take James and Will with you, it would almost be a pleasure cruise, and you’d be back within three weeks or so, the winds would favor the voyage at this time of year, and-“
He finally put a hand over her mouth and, to her trepidation, he glared. “You want me to leave you? After I’ve just got back?” And he gave her bottom a firm, rather painful pinch.
“Ow! Stop that!” she yelped, and pushed away. “How dare you, you horrid pirate!”
“Oh, horrid, am I?” he growled. “I’ll show you horrid, you scurvy chit!”
There ensued a brief struggle, somewhat less than half in earnest, which Harry inevitably lost. She ended on her back with Jack awkwardly but effectively pinning her, his hands pressing her wrists into the pillow on either side of her head.
“Let me go!” she hissed, and squirmed dramatically.
He leered, his teeth very white in the dim light. He bent to speak low, provocative words into her ear, his breath tickling. “Shall I describe to you in detail what I plan to do to you after that daughter of mine is no longer there to shield you from my righteous wrath, Mrs. Sparrow?”
A delightful shiver ran through Mrs. Sparrow and, as he’d released her wrists, she twined her arms about his neck and allowed him the compensation of kissing her most thoroughly.
When at last they were settled side-by-side again, very close, foreheads almost touching, Harry sighed, unreasonably happy, and Jack said to her, “As a matter of fact, love, Will and James were saying the same thing, we spoke of it after dinner.”
“What?” Harry looked up. “Jack! You’re awful!”
“Horrid pirate, hmm?”
Harry pursed her lips, then felt a pang and reached up to caress his cheek. “Most excellent pirate, and I’ll miss you dreadfully.”
“We’ll be back before you know it. And Maggie and Lizzie’ll be here. You won’t lack for care.”
“No,” she agreed, trying not to sound as sad as she suddenly felt. “I love you, Captain Sparrow.”
“And I love you, Mrs. Captain Sparrow.”
“Not scurvy chit?” She smiled.
“Never.” He kissed her, once more. “Or maybe just a little.”
On to Chapter Two
I hope to post every Sunday, and this one should be between five and seven chapters. The story begins about five months after the end of Harry & the Pirate IV: The Chalice of St. Francis...
Chapter One
“I’d like to propose a toast,” Jack Sparrow said, standing and raising his glass. He gazed with great pleasure down the length of the carved oak table where his family and guests were seated, less according to etiquette than predilection.
Governor Weatherby Swann sat at the far end, obviously pleased to be flanked by two beauties, his own daughter Elizabeth on his right and Admiral Norrington’s charming Spanish daughter-in-law, Lucia, on his left. The two young wives had been granted the indulgence of sitting beside their beloveds, as had Suzanna Owens, seated between her older brother, Lucia’s Charles, and her own husband, Michael, who’d risen from skinny cabin boy to Boatswain of the Black Pearl under Jack’s tutelage. Across from Suzanna sat her pretty but somewhat spoiled younger sister, Julietta, currently minding her manners between Will Turner and her father, the admiral. Little Anne Norrington, seven years old now, sat on the admiral’s other hand, eyes cast down on this momentous occasion - her first time dining with the grown-ups here at Island House - apparently (and understandably) terrified of being betrayed into giggles by the faces Jack’s miscreant son was pulling from across the table.
Jack narrowed his eyes at Tom, and Michael Owens gave the lad a sharp reminder with an elbow.
On Jack’s right, his darling Harry said, in that guilt-inducing tone common to all mothers, “Tom! Show Anne how well you can behave at table!”
Anne’s mother, Margaret, on Jack’s left, nodded. “Indeed, you would not wish to be banished to the nursery!”
“Would too, if Anne could come,” Tom had the audacity to mutter.
Jack glared, considering modes of retribution, and Harry said, “I beg your pardon?”
Tom, finally summoning the wit to see that he was headed toward a lee shore, abruptly lost his sullen mien. “Sorry,” he said, straightening in his chair, and had the grace to appear to be at least a little abashed when he looked at Jack. “A toast, sir?”
“Aye,” said Jack, his tone too sharp. He reined in his temper and looked about him again, at all the well-loved faces. “To family and friends, and blessings great and small.”
“Hear, hear!” Harry agreed, lifting her own glass of iced wine, and she patted the evidence of Jack’s affection that swelled beneath her gown of French silk.
Six more weeks.
Jack felt his smile fade and he tossed off his wine rather abruptly.
*
Tom and Anne had been allowed to escape to their play when the ladies retired to the parlour after dinner, leaving the men to their postprandial libations according to established custom. Lady Harry sank into her favorite overstuffed chair and sighed contentedly, waving away the tray of sweets presented for her delectation.
“I couldn’t eat another bite!” she exclaimed. “Just a cup of tea, if you please, Rachel.”
Rachel nodded approval, but Elizabeth shook her head. “You barely ate tonight, Aunt. Are you sure you’re not feeling unwell?”
“Not at all. It’s only that the baby is growing so large. You must remember. It’s been less than a year since you were delivered of dear little William Weatherby.”
“I don’t really. I never did lose my appetite.”
Maggie said, “I’m afraid it’s due to your scant inches, Harry dear. I had some digestive difficulties when I was carrying the twins, but not with any of the others.”
Harry pouted. “You are very cruel to gloat. I can’t help my scant inches. I always wished to be tall and willowy. I even bought some horrid physic once, when I was a girl, and dosed myself with it for an entire summer. Dr. Henry’s Supreme Elixir, Guaranteed to achieve an Increase in Height of up to five inches or your money cheerfully refunded.”
“And did they refund it, Aunt?” asked Elizabeth slyly.
Harry pulled a face at her saucy niece.
“See?” said Elizabeth to Suzanna. “That’s where Tom gets it.”
Suzanna laughed, but said to Harry, “Oh, no! You are exquisite, ma’am! Why, I always feel a positive lump beside you.”
It was Harry’s turn to laugh at this, for Maggie’s fair-haired daughter had a grace and beauty that was quite out of the ordinary, and even Maggie, who tried to discourage vanity in her undeniably attractive offspring, said, “Suzanna, don’t be absurd. And don’t encourage Harry, she is only fishing for compliments.”
“Very true,” Elizabeth said, with a fond smile.
“I’m not!” Harry protested. “Though thank goodness I have Jack here to make me feel beautiful. One would think he likes making love to a woman swollen to twice her usual size. Oh, dear!” Harry’s smile vanished and she scanned the room. “Where’s Julietta?”
“It’s all right, Aunt,” Elizabeth said wryly. “She’s gone off to Jack’s library again, I believe.”
“Still studying Latin? How very admirable, to be sure. She’ll be turning into a bluestocking, next.”
“Not at all,” Maggie chuckled. “She is learning Latin to impress our new vicar at Port Royal. He is very young and good-looking, and highly-educated.”
“A paragon!” Harry observed.
Lucia shook her head. “He is very dull, even if he is so handsome. I find it most surprising she should be attracted to him.”
“Perhaps that’s why she likes him,” mused Elizabeth. “She’s very lively herself.”
“Most girls are lively at twelve,” said Maggie, with a wry smile. “She is too young to form a lasting attachment, but we’ve had the gentleman to dine twice now and he’s taken the time to sit and converse with her in his quiet, reasonable way. She’s come to fairly dote on him. His manners are just what they should be, of course, but I believe his regard for her may be genuine. If so, I’d thank God for it - she’s had an eye for the most unsuitable creatures all this past year!”
Harry shook her head. “Be careful, Maggie. I remember being twelve.”
“Yes, I remember you at twelve, too. It’s well that Jack was out of the country by then.”
“Oh, no, he wouldn’t have looked at me! I was a thin little thing, with freckles on my nose.”
“Harry, as much as he enjoys your person, it’s you, your spirit he loves. That’s why he likes making love to a woman swollen to twice her usual size, as you say. Which is not true, by the way. You look beautiful. I’m so relieved you’re feeling well this time!”
“No more than I!” said Harry. She sobered. “I knew something was wrong five years ago, but there was nothing I could do, nothing Jack could have done.” Sudden tears made her blink; but then she took a deep breath and smiled. “This time it’s different, more like it was with Tom. I only wish I could convince Jack of that!”
There were murmurs of agreement, and Elizabeth said, “I’ve seen how he watches you. But surely all of us coming to visit here will take his mind from too much worry.”
Harry sighed. “He vows he won’t let me out of his sight. The Pearl’s been here somewhat over two weeks and already I feel…”
“Persecuted?” Elizabeth supplied.
“Oh, no!” Harry protested. Then added, ruefully, “Well, perhaps. Smothered in cotton wool, at least. But indeed, you must not say anything to him.” She looked at all of them, earnestly. “He tries so hard -- too hard, because he is usually away so much of the time.”
“Aunt, it’s not good for you or him!”
Maggie nodded. “Elizabeth is right. I hope that James and Will can get him to see reason. Perhaps they can go out on the Pearl for a few days, on a fishing expedition. With the rest of us here surely his mind will be easy.”
Harry nodded, though she didn’t look as though she had much confidence in the scheme coming to fruition. Then she said, quietly, “Do you know what I’d really like?”
“What?” said Elizabeth, leaning forward with a frown.
“I’d like him to go fetch Madame Juju.”
Everyone stared, and then Elizabeth exclaimed, “Aunt! That’s perfect!”
Lucia frowned. “Isn’t that the midwife on Barbados?”
“Yes! She’s very fierce, but she knows exactly what she’s doing.”
Maggie said, “All the women of Barbados revere her and her daughters,” and then she chuckled. “Jack didn’t much like her. She has no opinion of men.”
“She was kinder to Will,” Elizabeth said, “but yes, she attended me at William Weatherby’s birth, and though I found her of the greatest help, she and Jack were not on good terms.”
“They why would he bring her here, to St. Claire?” Lucia asked.
“Because he may not like her, but he trusts her,” said Suzanna, who remembered much too clearly those dreadful hours before they’d reached Barbados on their way back from Italy, when Elizabeth was in such pain and fear. Suzanna wondered that her friend could speak so lightly about it, now.
Harry nodded. “I think it would make him feel better about everything, and I know it would ease my own lesser anxieties. And dear Rachel has threatened to talk to him about it herself. She knows Madame Juju, though by her African name, Yewande Zola - Rachel says that means tranquil mother returns, and nothing could be more appropriate.”
Maggie said, firmly, “You must tell him at once, Harry. There’s still plenty of time for him to sail to Barbados and back. James and Will could go with him, to keep him company. They won’t let him worry himself into a decline! Do you want us to help you? I daresay the gentlemen will be joining us in a few minutes.”
Harry looked uncertainly at the door. “No, I don’t think it would answer. Let me put it to him tonight, after we… after we retire.”
“He’ll be as putty in your hands,” Elizabeth said, with a grin.
Harry blushed, but did not deny it. “It would be the perfect solution. And if he is not entirely convinced, perhaps you can help persuade him when we gather for breakfast in the morning.”
*
In the event, additional persuasion wasn’t necessary.
After the anticipated instance of marital relations, the stunning culmination of which could only be described by the use of the most extravagant superlatives (Truly, Harry thought, this is an effect of child bearing that is never discussed - and it should be!), Jack and Harry lay atop the sheet (the covers somehow having been shoved to the foot of the bed), holding hands and staring up at the shadowed ceiling, catching their breaths, hearts gradually slowing. Eventually Harry gave a start, realizing she’d been on the edge of sleep, and that Jack’s breathing was turning to a light snore. She turned to him, and ran her hand across the smooth skin of his chest to his shoulder. “Jack…”
He woke. “Hmmm… mmm… that was good, love. So good.” He rolled to face her, eyes drifting half open. “You all right?”
Harry’s heart swelled, and she moved to kiss his lips, his cheeks, grieving that she might be set to inflict a wound upon him. “I’m fine. Perfect.”
He smiled and pulled her close, hands roaming, but without urgency now, caressing with leisurely tenderness. She savored it, and willed her own hands to memorize the feel of him, until he said, in a low, knowing voice, “Then what’s wrong?”
She froze. Swallowed hard. And blurted, “Jack? Will you do something for me?”
He drew back his head and looked down his nose at her. “Didn’t I just finish doing something for you, greedy wench?”
Harry laughed at that and kissed him again. “You did, and it was heavenly-“
“Not heavenly, don’t do that sort of thing in heaven, it’d be sacrilegious, love.”
“Then I, for one, won’t go there!”
“And I for two, like as not,” Jack agreed. “So now that we’ve settled the afterlife, what’s wrong?”
Harry, seeing there was nothing for it, took a deep breath and said, “Will you take the Pearl and go to Barbados to fetch Madame Juju and bring her here to attend me when I am brought to bed?” He opened his mouth to speak, but she rushed on. “Oh, Jack, it would make me feel so much better about everything, and you too, though I know you don’t like her, and you could take James and Will with you, it would almost be a pleasure cruise, and you’d be back within three weeks or so, the winds would favor the voyage at this time of year, and-“
He finally put a hand over her mouth and, to her trepidation, he glared. “You want me to leave you? After I’ve just got back?” And he gave her bottom a firm, rather painful pinch.
“Ow! Stop that!” she yelped, and pushed away. “How dare you, you horrid pirate!”
“Oh, horrid, am I?” he growled. “I’ll show you horrid, you scurvy chit!”
There ensued a brief struggle, somewhat less than half in earnest, which Harry inevitably lost. She ended on her back with Jack awkwardly but effectively pinning her, his hands pressing her wrists into the pillow on either side of her head.
“Let me go!” she hissed, and squirmed dramatically.
He leered, his teeth very white in the dim light. He bent to speak low, provocative words into her ear, his breath tickling. “Shall I describe to you in detail what I plan to do to you after that daughter of mine is no longer there to shield you from my righteous wrath, Mrs. Sparrow?”
A delightful shiver ran through Mrs. Sparrow and, as he’d released her wrists, she twined her arms about his neck and allowed him the compensation of kissing her most thoroughly.
When at last they were settled side-by-side again, very close, foreheads almost touching, Harry sighed, unreasonably happy, and Jack said to her, “As a matter of fact, love, Will and James were saying the same thing, we spoke of it after dinner.”
“What?” Harry looked up. “Jack! You’re awful!”
“Horrid pirate, hmm?”
Harry pursed her lips, then felt a pang and reached up to caress his cheek. “Most excellent pirate, and I’ll miss you dreadfully.”
“We’ll be back before you know it. And Maggie and Lizzie’ll be here. You won’t lack for care.”
“No,” she agreed, trying not to sound as sad as she suddenly felt. “I love you, Captain Sparrow.”
“And I love you, Mrs. Captain Sparrow.”
“Not scurvy chit?” She smiled.
“Never.” He kissed her, once more. “Or maybe just a little.”
On to Chapter Two