Fic: 'Harry & the Pirate VI: Blood and Treasure (Jack/Harry, etc. - 7/20)
Holy Cats! Dear lolitalockhart made FanArt for the Swann siblings a la Harry & the Pirate! They are pictured in their youth and I think she caught their personalities to perfection. Capitaine Chevalle, who is not actually in the H&theP stories as he belongs to the universe of the sequels, is also included, and I may have to write some H&theP fic that features him.
*ponders*
But now, on to today's chapter...
Chapter Seven: Vauxhall
Anne’s heart was thumping as she rose from her dressing table where her maid had been arranging her hair. A last look in the mirror - her new gown was very well, though the colors, white with pale blue and silver embroidery, made her heightened color more noticeable - and she swept out the door and down the hall, swallowing hard at the sound of familiar voices that came to her ears from the foyer.
Tom.
She was determined she would not behave awkwardly. He was merely her old friend, a friend with whom she’d had next to no communication in four years. But as she descended the staircase and saw him there, among her family and his, and as he turned to look up at her, she had to pause for just a moment, stifling a gasp, feeling strangely lightheaded. Then she realized what it was and gripped the banister.
She would not faint!
And she didn’t. By the time she reached the bottom step she had taken herself severely in hand, and even his dark eyes, pleasurably raking her from head to toe, could not shake her resolve.
He came forward to greet her. “Hello, Anne,” he said, his voice deeper, more musical, and yet the same.
“Hello, Tom,” she said, and held out her hand. He took her fingers in his - she had to steel herself again at his touch - bowed (how tall he’d grown!) and very properly kissed the air just above them. But as he straightened he retained his hold on her fingers just a moment too long for strict propriety, and gave them a warm squeeze.
There was a brisk knock on the door, which was immediately opened to reveal the earl and his sister. Anne had never been so thankful for Hartfield’s advent.
She smiled mechanically in greeting, and as her parents began to make the introductions, she went to stand a little away and began to notice things other than Tom. There was a great deal to notice, for not only were the Turners and both elder Swanns present, but Tom’s dear family as well. Captain Sparrow and Lady Harry were a little older perhaps - there were some threads of gray in their hair and some fine lines at the corners of their eyes - but they were the familiar and remarkably beautiful couple they’d always been. They were dressed quite magnificently just now, in garments that had to have come straight from Paris, and even Daisy, in spite of her extreme youth, was clad in a gown that was very much a la mode.
She was the same Daisy, however, and now came right over to Anne, sparkling with delight.
“You’re so different,” she said, “but I remember you. Papa says I have a memory like an elephant. I’m Daisy, you know.”
Anne chuckled. “Of course I know - though you have certainly changed, too. How long it’s been! You were so small when you sailed away, and now you are quite grown up.”
Daisy said privately, but with devastating candor, “Not as grown up as you are. I don’t wonder that Tom was so anxious to arrive- he said you’d be lovely.”
Anne managed to say, “Why, thank you,” but felt her cheeks growing warm again.
Daisy cocked her head. “Should I not have said that? But he’s been telling me all about the adventures you and he used to have together, and how you sometimes would even spend the night together, when you were small.”
Memories of those comfortable nights, and others, like stealing Anatole’s tarts, or whole days spent together in the treehouse at Governor Swann’s estate, or sunbathing au natural on the Black Pearl, now made Anne extremely uncomfortable. She cleared her throat. “Has he indeed?”
But this unsettling conversation was cut short as Lady Harry approached. “Anne, how good it is to see you again! I hope my daughter hasn’t said anything untoward?” She eyed Daisy with a raised brow.
Daisy slipped her hand into her mother’s. “I was only telling her that Tom missed her.”
“Is that so? Well, that’s true enough. But I believe, daughter, that you and I must have a talk in private when we get home.”
Daisy flushed, her high spirits somewhat dashed. “Yes, Mama.”
Anne’s heart went out to the little girl. “Please don’t give her a scold, ma’am. Tom and I were such friends when we were children, it would have been strange indeed if we had not missed each other. I hope we can still be friends, now that you are here in England for a time. Do you plan to stay long?”
“I’m not sure,” Lady Harry said, sounding a bit worried. “I daresay you have heard the news of Jack’s inheritance.”
“Yes! Father told us this afternoon. It’s wonderful.”
“It is. So wonderful that it’s difficult to fathom all the implications. Jack wishes to go into Lincolnshire as soon as may be.”
“That’s where the estate lies?”
Lady Harry nodded. “We’ll take the Pearl up to Boston within the week - there’s an adequate harbor, he says, and we can hire coaches to take us out to the estate. Elizabeth and Will are to go-“
“And Wilby!” Daisy asserted.
Her mother smiled. “And Wilby. And Anne, I believe your father is considering Jack’s request that all of you come as well. Do you think you would be able to tear yourself away from London for a time?”
Leave London. With Tom. On the Black Pearl.
Oh, yes! I would like it of all things!
But she resisted her unwise heart, which urged her to set aside the years of silence and longing. As Aunt often reminded her, she was no longer a child, and the qualities that had made Tom such a fascinating playmate were not necessarily conducive to a more mature relationship. So she said, instead, “How kind of you. Surely Mother and Father will go, but I have accepted so many invitations… engagements that I must attend. I fear I will be obliged to stay here, with Aunt Caroline.”
*
In spite of her determination to resist the allure of Thomas Jackson Sparrow, the beginning of the evening was such that Anne felt almost as though she were moving through a dream.
Three carriages had been hired for the occasion, to transport the entire party to the Thames-side dock where they would take boats over the water to Vauxhall. Mother and Father were in the first, with Captain Sparrow and Lady Harry, and Will and Elizabeth; George and Weatherby Swann were in the second with Aunt Caroline, all being amused by Daisy and William Weatherby; and Hartfield and his sister rode with Tom and Anne in the third. To Anne’s surprise, Tom made no objection to Hartfield handing her into the carriage and seating himself beside her; Tom did the same for Hartfield’s sister, Jane, in a perfectly gentlemanlike fashion. Anne tried not to think that his easy acquiescence was due to the fact that sitting opposite afforded him a clear view of her, which he would not have had sitting next to her, but she could not seem to help being gratified that his eyes were upon her a great deal of the time, though his contributions to the conversation were very properly directed to all.
The weather was perfect, the short rain of early afternoon having given way to an almost cloudless sky, and London seemed to sparkle as they drove through the town. When they arrived at the dock, it proved to be a charming affair, and the boats were so prettily decorated that Lady Harry exclaimed over them, inspiring Will to say something about painting the Black Pearl in a similar fashion. Captain Sparrow looked appalled at this suggestion, and asserted that only the presence of the ladies prevented him from calling his nephew out on the spot.
Laughter gave way to quieter delight as they embarked and were conveyed over the water. When they reached the south shore there was a delay, for many people were arriving at the same time. Anne’s father and Hartfield went to confirm the arrangements and pay the entrance fee for their party, and it was Tom who helped Anne and Jane from the boat. But Jane hurried off to speak with her brother, leaving Tom with Anne. He extended an arm, she took it - so comfortable, so disturbing - and together they made their way through the dark passage and into the glorious garden itself.
Anne had heard much about Vauxhall, and had been looking forward to visiting the place ever since she and her family had arrived in London. Bath had two pleasure gardens of its own, of course, the Orange Grove and the Spring Gardens, but she had been told that they paled in comparison with those at Vauxhall, and the truth of this was now before her. The neat gravel walks, lined with trees, some of them quite enormous, some laden with flowers or delicious cherries; the diverse shrubberies; the ornate fountains and temples; the wonderful music-birdsong as they arrived, from hosts of larks, blackbirds, and nightingales, and then, as dusk approached, from an orchestra of some fifty players and written by the finest composers of the day; the statues and paintings, all produced by the most gifted artists and designed to uplift and enrapture even the most jaded viewer; and, as night descended, the glow of lamps, thousands it seemed, their golden light illuminating not only the place itself but the hundreds of elegant people gathered to enjoy this seeming Heaven on earth.
Hartfield claimed Anne for the first hour, and he escorted her about the main walkways, and answered many of her questions, for he’d been to Vauxhall countless times and was actually acquainted with the owner, Mr. Tyers. As they walked, they often had pleasant encounters with members of their own party, though Anne only caught sight of Tom once, from a distance, and was startled to see him standing surrounded by at least four ladies, one of whom was Jane. However, after the lamps had been lit and the orchestra began to play, everyone made their way to the supper boxes in the Grove to partake of cold meats (including the famous paper-thin slices of ham), cheesecakes, fruits, syllabub, and punch, and to listen to a half-hour recital of art songs warbled by a buxom and very elegantly attired soprano.
Anne was seated between Hartfield and Governor Swann, and once again Tom was directly across from her, his mobile countenance and occasional humorous additions to conversation making her want to giggle like a schoolgirl, which he could see plain enough. His gaze was often warm upon her, and though she tried not to meet his eyes (for she could not help blushing when she did) there came a point at the end of the meal, when Hartfield was expounding at tedious length on the intricacies of plumbing the Garden’s many fountains, and she looked up, saw Tom’s crooked smile of sympathy, and briefly allowed herself to communicate her boredom. It was just a slight change in expression, nothing anyone else could would notice, but to her delight he responded immediately, rising and saying, when Hartfield paused for breath, “Aye, that’s all very interesting, but the dancing seems to be starting up and Anne’s promised the first one to me, if you’ll forgive us?”
“Certainly,” Hartfield said, complacently.
Tom came around the table for her and she stood and took his hand. Tom’s mother and father looked pleased, but Aunt Caroline was frowning, and her own parents and many of the others seemed surprised and concerned, as was Anne herself, a little, until the dance began and she could see that Tom not only knew the steps but could perform his part with Sparrovian grace. She must have betrayed her astonished pleasure, for they came together at one point in the dance and he said, “Alphonse is a good dance teacher, don’t you think? He has a knack for picking up the latest steps, wherever the Pearl happens to be.”
“So that’s where you learned. You dance beautifully!”
“Then there’s a pair of us,” he grinned, before they were separated again.
That dance turned out to be the high point of the evening for Anne. She wanted it to go on forever, weaving in and out among so many others with a gaiety inspired by the company as much as the music, but always coming back to Tom, always sure of his smile, always sure that his steady hands would lead her aright.
But it did end, and when it was over, a number of the other dancers crowded around, detaining Tom with praise and prying questions. Word of Captain Sparrow’s inheritance seemed to have spread among the guests. Tom laughed over the commotion, but Anne found herself edged out of the way, and then Hartfield appeared at her side.
“Will you walk with me?” he asked.
“Yes,” Anne said, after only a moment’s hesitation. Her heart, so light as to be blessed with wings only moments before, had stilled and now began to fill with something small and exquisitely painful, though she could not name it. Refused to name it.
For it was evident that Tom’s change in status, from privateer’s son to peer’s heir, had quite suddenly made him an object of interest to many an ambitious lady. And evident, too, that Tom didn’t mind in the least!
Continued in Chapter Eight: Reversals
*ponders*
But now, on to today's chapter...
Chapter Seven: Vauxhall
Anne’s heart was thumping as she rose from her dressing table where her maid had been arranging her hair. A last look in the mirror - her new gown was very well, though the colors, white with pale blue and silver embroidery, made her heightened color more noticeable - and she swept out the door and down the hall, swallowing hard at the sound of familiar voices that came to her ears from the foyer.
Tom.
She was determined she would not behave awkwardly. He was merely her old friend, a friend with whom she’d had next to no communication in four years. But as she descended the staircase and saw him there, among her family and his, and as he turned to look up at her, she had to pause for just a moment, stifling a gasp, feeling strangely lightheaded. Then she realized what it was and gripped the banister.
She would not faint!
And she didn’t. By the time she reached the bottom step she had taken herself severely in hand, and even his dark eyes, pleasurably raking her from head to toe, could not shake her resolve.
He came forward to greet her. “Hello, Anne,” he said, his voice deeper, more musical, and yet the same.
“Hello, Tom,” she said, and held out her hand. He took her fingers in his - she had to steel herself again at his touch - bowed (how tall he’d grown!) and very properly kissed the air just above them. But as he straightened he retained his hold on her fingers just a moment too long for strict propriety, and gave them a warm squeeze.
There was a brisk knock on the door, which was immediately opened to reveal the earl and his sister. Anne had never been so thankful for Hartfield’s advent.
She smiled mechanically in greeting, and as her parents began to make the introductions, she went to stand a little away and began to notice things other than Tom. There was a great deal to notice, for not only were the Turners and both elder Swanns present, but Tom’s dear family as well. Captain Sparrow and Lady Harry were a little older perhaps - there were some threads of gray in their hair and some fine lines at the corners of their eyes - but they were the familiar and remarkably beautiful couple they’d always been. They were dressed quite magnificently just now, in garments that had to have come straight from Paris, and even Daisy, in spite of her extreme youth, was clad in a gown that was very much a la mode.
She was the same Daisy, however, and now came right over to Anne, sparkling with delight.
“You’re so different,” she said, “but I remember you. Papa says I have a memory like an elephant. I’m Daisy, you know.”
Anne chuckled. “Of course I know - though you have certainly changed, too. How long it’s been! You were so small when you sailed away, and now you are quite grown up.”
Daisy said privately, but with devastating candor, “Not as grown up as you are. I don’t wonder that Tom was so anxious to arrive- he said you’d be lovely.”
Anne managed to say, “Why, thank you,” but felt her cheeks growing warm again.
Daisy cocked her head. “Should I not have said that? But he’s been telling me all about the adventures you and he used to have together, and how you sometimes would even spend the night together, when you were small.”
Memories of those comfortable nights, and others, like stealing Anatole’s tarts, or whole days spent together in the treehouse at Governor Swann’s estate, or sunbathing au natural on the Black Pearl, now made Anne extremely uncomfortable. She cleared her throat. “Has he indeed?”
But this unsettling conversation was cut short as Lady Harry approached. “Anne, how good it is to see you again! I hope my daughter hasn’t said anything untoward?” She eyed Daisy with a raised brow.
Daisy slipped her hand into her mother’s. “I was only telling her that Tom missed her.”
“Is that so? Well, that’s true enough. But I believe, daughter, that you and I must have a talk in private when we get home.”
Daisy flushed, her high spirits somewhat dashed. “Yes, Mama.”
Anne’s heart went out to the little girl. “Please don’t give her a scold, ma’am. Tom and I were such friends when we were children, it would have been strange indeed if we had not missed each other. I hope we can still be friends, now that you are here in England for a time. Do you plan to stay long?”
“I’m not sure,” Lady Harry said, sounding a bit worried. “I daresay you have heard the news of Jack’s inheritance.”
“Yes! Father told us this afternoon. It’s wonderful.”
“It is. So wonderful that it’s difficult to fathom all the implications. Jack wishes to go into Lincolnshire as soon as may be.”
“That’s where the estate lies?”
Lady Harry nodded. “We’ll take the Pearl up to Boston within the week - there’s an adequate harbor, he says, and we can hire coaches to take us out to the estate. Elizabeth and Will are to go-“
“And Wilby!” Daisy asserted.
Her mother smiled. “And Wilby. And Anne, I believe your father is considering Jack’s request that all of you come as well. Do you think you would be able to tear yourself away from London for a time?”
Leave London. With Tom. On the Black Pearl.
Oh, yes! I would like it of all things!
But she resisted her unwise heart, which urged her to set aside the years of silence and longing. As Aunt often reminded her, she was no longer a child, and the qualities that had made Tom such a fascinating playmate were not necessarily conducive to a more mature relationship. So she said, instead, “How kind of you. Surely Mother and Father will go, but I have accepted so many invitations… engagements that I must attend. I fear I will be obliged to stay here, with Aunt Caroline.”
*
In spite of her determination to resist the allure of Thomas Jackson Sparrow, the beginning of the evening was such that Anne felt almost as though she were moving through a dream.
Three carriages had been hired for the occasion, to transport the entire party to the Thames-side dock where they would take boats over the water to Vauxhall. Mother and Father were in the first, with Captain Sparrow and Lady Harry, and Will and Elizabeth; George and Weatherby Swann were in the second with Aunt Caroline, all being amused by Daisy and William Weatherby; and Hartfield and his sister rode with Tom and Anne in the third. To Anne’s surprise, Tom made no objection to Hartfield handing her into the carriage and seating himself beside her; Tom did the same for Hartfield’s sister, Jane, in a perfectly gentlemanlike fashion. Anne tried not to think that his easy acquiescence was due to the fact that sitting opposite afforded him a clear view of her, which he would not have had sitting next to her, but she could not seem to help being gratified that his eyes were upon her a great deal of the time, though his contributions to the conversation were very properly directed to all.
The weather was perfect, the short rain of early afternoon having given way to an almost cloudless sky, and London seemed to sparkle as they drove through the town. When they arrived at the dock, it proved to be a charming affair, and the boats were so prettily decorated that Lady Harry exclaimed over them, inspiring Will to say something about painting the Black Pearl in a similar fashion. Captain Sparrow looked appalled at this suggestion, and asserted that only the presence of the ladies prevented him from calling his nephew out on the spot.
Laughter gave way to quieter delight as they embarked and were conveyed over the water. When they reached the south shore there was a delay, for many people were arriving at the same time. Anne’s father and Hartfield went to confirm the arrangements and pay the entrance fee for their party, and it was Tom who helped Anne and Jane from the boat. But Jane hurried off to speak with her brother, leaving Tom with Anne. He extended an arm, she took it - so comfortable, so disturbing - and together they made their way through the dark passage and into the glorious garden itself.
Anne had heard much about Vauxhall, and had been looking forward to visiting the place ever since she and her family had arrived in London. Bath had two pleasure gardens of its own, of course, the Orange Grove and the Spring Gardens, but she had been told that they paled in comparison with those at Vauxhall, and the truth of this was now before her. The neat gravel walks, lined with trees, some of them quite enormous, some laden with flowers or delicious cherries; the diverse shrubberies; the ornate fountains and temples; the wonderful music-birdsong as they arrived, from hosts of larks, blackbirds, and nightingales, and then, as dusk approached, from an orchestra of some fifty players and written by the finest composers of the day; the statues and paintings, all produced by the most gifted artists and designed to uplift and enrapture even the most jaded viewer; and, as night descended, the glow of lamps, thousands it seemed, their golden light illuminating not only the place itself but the hundreds of elegant people gathered to enjoy this seeming Heaven on earth.
Hartfield claimed Anne for the first hour, and he escorted her about the main walkways, and answered many of her questions, for he’d been to Vauxhall countless times and was actually acquainted with the owner, Mr. Tyers. As they walked, they often had pleasant encounters with members of their own party, though Anne only caught sight of Tom once, from a distance, and was startled to see him standing surrounded by at least four ladies, one of whom was Jane. However, after the lamps had been lit and the orchestra began to play, everyone made their way to the supper boxes in the Grove to partake of cold meats (including the famous paper-thin slices of ham), cheesecakes, fruits, syllabub, and punch, and to listen to a half-hour recital of art songs warbled by a buxom and very elegantly attired soprano.
Anne was seated between Hartfield and Governor Swann, and once again Tom was directly across from her, his mobile countenance and occasional humorous additions to conversation making her want to giggle like a schoolgirl, which he could see plain enough. His gaze was often warm upon her, and though she tried not to meet his eyes (for she could not help blushing when she did) there came a point at the end of the meal, when Hartfield was expounding at tedious length on the intricacies of plumbing the Garden’s many fountains, and she looked up, saw Tom’s crooked smile of sympathy, and briefly allowed herself to communicate her boredom. It was just a slight change in expression, nothing anyone else could would notice, but to her delight he responded immediately, rising and saying, when Hartfield paused for breath, “Aye, that’s all very interesting, but the dancing seems to be starting up and Anne’s promised the first one to me, if you’ll forgive us?”
“Certainly,” Hartfield said, complacently.
Tom came around the table for her and she stood and took his hand. Tom’s mother and father looked pleased, but Aunt Caroline was frowning, and her own parents and many of the others seemed surprised and concerned, as was Anne herself, a little, until the dance began and she could see that Tom not only knew the steps but could perform his part with Sparrovian grace. She must have betrayed her astonished pleasure, for they came together at one point in the dance and he said, “Alphonse is a good dance teacher, don’t you think? He has a knack for picking up the latest steps, wherever the Pearl happens to be.”
“So that’s where you learned. You dance beautifully!”
“Then there’s a pair of us,” he grinned, before they were separated again.
That dance turned out to be the high point of the evening for Anne. She wanted it to go on forever, weaving in and out among so many others with a gaiety inspired by the company as much as the music, but always coming back to Tom, always sure of his smile, always sure that his steady hands would lead her aright.
But it did end, and when it was over, a number of the other dancers crowded around, detaining Tom with praise and prying questions. Word of Captain Sparrow’s inheritance seemed to have spread among the guests. Tom laughed over the commotion, but Anne found herself edged out of the way, and then Hartfield appeared at her side.
“Will you walk with me?” he asked.
“Yes,” Anne said, after only a moment’s hesitation. Her heart, so light as to be blessed with wings only moments before, had stilled and now began to fill with something small and exquisitely painful, though she could not name it. Refused to name it.
For it was evident that Tom’s change in status, from privateer’s son to peer’s heir, had quite suddenly made him an object of interest to many an ambitious lady. And evident, too, that Tom didn’t mind in the least!
Continued in Chapter Eight: Reversals