Potc | Beckett/Elizabeth
Title: (Per)Versions of Love and Hate ~ Chapter 5
Characters: Groves, OCs
Pairings: Beckett/Elizabeth, Groves/OFC
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1.770
Warnings for the whole series: major character deaths, murder, torture, gore
Summary: Several years after AWE Elizabeth Swann, now Eli, Pirate King, sets a honey trap but is trapped herself instead. So begins a tale of captivity, murder, and revenge.
originally posted here
For three weeks there has been talk of nothing else but the birth of a healthy son, heir to Lord Beckett’s considerable estate. The first ball held by Lady Forester in honour of the newborn child was only attended by Beckett himself, who assured everybody his wife was quite well but still tired after the lengthy delivery and in need of rest. Most women smiled and nodded, assuring him that having been through childbirth themselves several times they understood quite well. They promised they would call on her ladyship soon, offer advice for the young mother. But once Beckett was called away by his pockmarked lackey, to be obliged to admit him to their houses at the Lord’s request they all considered a disgrace, they would let their poisonous tongues utter harsh words behind the back of those concerned.
And gossip travelled faster than the plague.
From parlour to parlour, from the lips of one lady into the ears of another, altered and painted with foreign colours, passed on from wife to husband over a joyless breakfast, discussed amid cigarette smoke between men, words of slander seeping into the ears of invisible, objectified servants who then carried them like a disease through the streets of Port Royal and into homes not yet ridden with spite.
“You wouldn’t believe what I heard from Elsie, Mrs Murphy’s maid,” Tanja calls through the open window with excitement that makes her Russian accent all the more obvious even after almost a decade in Mr Lee’s service, ever since his daughter, Anne, demanded they bring the little girl back home with them from their visit to relatives in St Petersburg. Bonnie, the young maid, rushes to open the door for her but Miss Eliot, the old cook and housekeeper puts her large black hands on her considerable waist and narrows her eyes warningly.
“No gossip under this roof, missie. Mistress don’t like it.”
Bonnie rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue, a childhood habit the 14 year-old girl hasn’t managed to shake yet, but after a moment’s consideration instead of letting her friend in she leans out of the window, eager to hear the news. Miss Eliot narrows her eyes but doesn’t say anything just holds her hands up in defeat. Maddy, a girl with brown locks and bright eyes, smiles at her and stands up from the chair where she’s been waiting for Miss Eliot’s trademark pie to be ready for her to take home to her masters.
“There’s no winning against the young, I fear, Miss Eliot,” she says, more amused than annoyed by the exited whispering of the two girls and the way Bonnie’s thin legs are dangling in the air as she’s leaning out to the street.
“Mistress don’t like it,” the old housekeeper murmurs under her breath, not looking up from the task at hand, wrapping the still warm pie in a cloth.
“My Master always tells me there’s no harm in knowing what people say about you behind your back, teaches you caution.”
Miss Eliot glances at Maddy briefly, considering her answer, but then decides not to speak at all and just hands over the pie with a broad smile.
“All for Master Peter,” she says with a naughty glint in her eyes that never fails to make Maddy smile. “Don’t you let your Master William get his fingers on it.”
“I promise I will tell him to keep away from it,” Maddy laughs at their weekly ritual and can’t help but imagine Miss Eliot’s mortification if she knew Maddy isn’t joking and always passes the housekeeper’s words onto her master. If only to make him smile, which doesn’t happen often enough these days. Just as she’s about to leave suddenly two little children, burst into the kitchen, running around like destructive little whirlwinds, giggling and pinching each other. Bonnie squeaks as they bump against her dangling legs and Maddy just laughs as they chase each other around her, but Miss Eliot doesn’t seem amused.
“Drew! Rosie!” her kind voice is hard now and the little ones stop dead, looking up at her with big, puppy eyes. The girl is taller than her two year-old little brother, about a year older and already full of mischief. There’s a spark of defiance in the way her lips are pressed together as she clasps Drew’s tiny hand protectively. She has her father’s dark, fine hair, her mother’s angelic features and the name of a destroyed woman she only heard stories about. It is more the innocence of the little boy’s too obvious intimidation as he suckles on his thumb than the funny little glare his sister hasn’t quite managed to pull off yet that melts away Miss Eliot’s anger.
“No runnin’ in the kitchen,” she says, softer than intended, and she even gives them a forgiving smile. “Off you go then, littlest ones.”
“They get lovelier by the day,” Maddy smiles after the children as they run back to the living room to their mother. Miss Eliot nods proudly but before she could say anything Bonnie suddenly turns around with an exclamation of disbelief. Tanja seems to have just left but she has clearly left some exciting piece of gossip behind.
“Tanja says Elsie ‘eard from little Dorothy Petersen who ‘eard Miss Laura Barnes talk to Mrs Petersen that it’s not the childbirth keepin’ Lady Beckett locked up in them big ‘ouse of ‘ers.”
“It’s been three weeks, Bonnie,” Maddy says with a shrug. “Lady Beckett is very slim, the birth was bound to take its toll, you cannot read things into that.”
“But Tony Murdoch says…”
“Little Tony Murdoch?” Miss Eliot interrupts. “Caught him stealin’ from the kitchen when we was at Mr Porter’s. Good for nothin’ lad that one.”
“Tony says,” Bonnie continues, not really paying attention to Miss Eliot. “Martha, that girl of ‘is ‘eard screamin’ from the Lady’s bedroom for days after the baby was born. And she wasn’t the only one to ‘ear either. And then suddenly there was only silence. Tony reckons Lord Beckett killed ‘er now ‘e ‘as that heir of ‘is, and ‘e’s going to marry ‘is mistress, a wealthy widow from London.”
“Utter nonsense, that’s what this is,” Miss Eliot mumbles under her breath in annoyance.
“’Course it is,” Bonnie shrugs. “Everybody knows ‘e’s been bedding a whore for bloody ages. First a pirate bride now a whore, ‘e’s got fine taste that lord.”
“Bonnie,” Maddy’s voice is hard now, her smile gone. “You shouldn’t talk about people like that, what would your Master say if he heard?”
“He’d say ‘One more word and there’s no more place for you in this house’.”
Everybody freezes as a shadow moves in the doorway and Commodore Groves steps inside, back straight, eyes hard as if he was at sea, about to ensure discipline among those under his command. Bonnie looks too terrified to even blink under the disapproving gaze, she opens her mouth a couple of times as if to say something in her defence but no sound comes out. Miss Eliot looks pleased, the girl had it coming for a long time.
“As long as you are in this house you will never again speak of matters that don’t concern you, Bonnie,” he says. “Understood?”
The girl nods quickly a couple of times.
“Consider yourself lucky my wife didn’t hear you. If you had upset her with your foolish words…” he fails to keep the anger out of his words. “Get out of my sight.”
Bonnie quickly runs out of the kitchen without looking back, and after a glance at Groves Miss Eliot stops cleaning the chicken for dinner and leaves the room, she knows her master well enough to see when he wants her out of the room. Maddy watches the Commodore walk to the window, dark eyes scanning the street, less prestigious than his rank would demand. His wife’s unfortunate past keeps better districts and the gates of elegant houses firmly closed to him and even though Lord Beckett has offered his help many times, Groves is more than reluctant to accept more favours than absolutely necessary, Maddy heard her master say once.
“How is Mrs Groves?” she asks to break the silence.
“She’s still Goldie to you, you know,” Groves says, gaze briefly lingering on a ragged-looking woman with wild madness in her eyes and slightly unhinged movements as she keeps pulling the dirty scarf lower over her forehead, offering men to tell their fortunes in a voice that is still a faint shadow of a siren’s irresistible lure. “She could use an honest friend, Maddy.”
“I wasn’t sure…” she shrugs, tucking a stray brown lock behind her ear.
“You will always be welcome in this house,” Groves states firmly. “Coming through the front door like a guest.”
Maddy is unsure how to respond to the unexpected offer, so she just repeats her question, fondness softening her voice.
“How is she?”
A brief flicker of a loving smile flashes across Groves’ face.
“Tired and moody. She’s only a month away now.”
“I might be able to see her for a few hours after church next Sunday, if that’s…”
Groves nods but he seems a million miles away. Maddy looks around uncertainly, sensing that there’s something he wants to talk to her about, but uncomfortable about his hesitance at bringing it up. But just as she considers leaving he suddenly speaks.
“I heard Mr Rutherford has been to visit Lady Beckett a few times lately,” he says still not looking at Maddy, missing the momentary surprise on her face. She’s reluctant to confirm but as far as she knows the visits are no secret and she could never bring herself to mistrust Groves despite his apparent loyalty to Lord Beckett.
“He’s a good friend to Mrs Lardner,” she says cautiously. Groves looks at her with very serious eyes, lacking the easy glint of mischief all the girls fell in love with just a couple of years ago. A small object wrapped tightly in a pristine handkerchief is in his palm and she can see the tiny tremble in his always steady hand as he hands it over.
“For Eli,” he says simply. A lesser man would have asked her (or even threatened her) not to open it, but he must know she would never betray such trust. She gives him a small smile of assurance but when there’s a soft Ted? from upstairs he hurries away, his wife taking over all his thoughts, and he leaves Maddy standing in the kitchen, clasping the tiny, weightless bundle between her long fingers.
Characters: Groves, OCs
Pairings: Beckett/Elizabeth, Groves/OFC
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1.770
Warnings for the whole series: major character deaths, murder, torture, gore
Summary: Several years after AWE Elizabeth Swann, now Eli, Pirate King, sets a honey trap but is trapped herself instead. So begins a tale of captivity, murder, and revenge.
originally posted here
For three weeks there has been talk of nothing else but the birth of a healthy son, heir to Lord Beckett’s considerable estate. The first ball held by Lady Forester in honour of the newborn child was only attended by Beckett himself, who assured everybody his wife was quite well but still tired after the lengthy delivery and in need of rest. Most women smiled and nodded, assuring him that having been through childbirth themselves several times they understood quite well. They promised they would call on her ladyship soon, offer advice for the young mother. But once Beckett was called away by his pockmarked lackey, to be obliged to admit him to their houses at the Lord’s request they all considered a disgrace, they would let their poisonous tongues utter harsh words behind the back of those concerned.
And gossip travelled faster than the plague.
From parlour to parlour, from the lips of one lady into the ears of another, altered and painted with foreign colours, passed on from wife to husband over a joyless breakfast, discussed amid cigarette smoke between men, words of slander seeping into the ears of invisible, objectified servants who then carried them like a disease through the streets of Port Royal and into homes not yet ridden with spite.
“You wouldn’t believe what I heard from Elsie, Mrs Murphy’s maid,” Tanja calls through the open window with excitement that makes her Russian accent all the more obvious even after almost a decade in Mr Lee’s service, ever since his daughter, Anne, demanded they bring the little girl back home with them from their visit to relatives in St Petersburg. Bonnie, the young maid, rushes to open the door for her but Miss Eliot, the old cook and housekeeper puts her large black hands on her considerable waist and narrows her eyes warningly.
“No gossip under this roof, missie. Mistress don’t like it.”
Bonnie rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue, a childhood habit the 14 year-old girl hasn’t managed to shake yet, but after a moment’s consideration instead of letting her friend in she leans out of the window, eager to hear the news. Miss Eliot narrows her eyes but doesn’t say anything just holds her hands up in defeat. Maddy, a girl with brown locks and bright eyes, smiles at her and stands up from the chair where she’s been waiting for Miss Eliot’s trademark pie to be ready for her to take home to her masters.
“There’s no winning against the young, I fear, Miss Eliot,” she says, more amused than annoyed by the exited whispering of the two girls and the way Bonnie’s thin legs are dangling in the air as she’s leaning out to the street.
“Mistress don’t like it,” the old housekeeper murmurs under her breath, not looking up from the task at hand, wrapping the still warm pie in a cloth.
“My Master always tells me there’s no harm in knowing what people say about you behind your back, teaches you caution.”
Miss Eliot glances at Maddy briefly, considering her answer, but then decides not to speak at all and just hands over the pie with a broad smile.
“All for Master Peter,” she says with a naughty glint in her eyes that never fails to make Maddy smile. “Don’t you let your Master William get his fingers on it.”
“I promise I will tell him to keep away from it,” Maddy laughs at their weekly ritual and can’t help but imagine Miss Eliot’s mortification if she knew Maddy isn’t joking and always passes the housekeeper’s words onto her master. If only to make him smile, which doesn’t happen often enough these days. Just as she’s about to leave suddenly two little children, burst into the kitchen, running around like destructive little whirlwinds, giggling and pinching each other. Bonnie squeaks as they bump against her dangling legs and Maddy just laughs as they chase each other around her, but Miss Eliot doesn’t seem amused.
“Drew! Rosie!” her kind voice is hard now and the little ones stop dead, looking up at her with big, puppy eyes. The girl is taller than her two year-old little brother, about a year older and already full of mischief. There’s a spark of defiance in the way her lips are pressed together as she clasps Drew’s tiny hand protectively. She has her father’s dark, fine hair, her mother’s angelic features and the name of a destroyed woman she only heard stories about. It is more the innocence of the little boy’s too obvious intimidation as he suckles on his thumb than the funny little glare his sister hasn’t quite managed to pull off yet that melts away Miss Eliot’s anger.
“No runnin’ in the kitchen,” she says, softer than intended, and she even gives them a forgiving smile. “Off you go then, littlest ones.”
“They get lovelier by the day,” Maddy smiles after the children as they run back to the living room to their mother. Miss Eliot nods proudly but before she could say anything Bonnie suddenly turns around with an exclamation of disbelief. Tanja seems to have just left but she has clearly left some exciting piece of gossip behind.
“Tanja says Elsie ‘eard from little Dorothy Petersen who ‘eard Miss Laura Barnes talk to Mrs Petersen that it’s not the childbirth keepin’ Lady Beckett locked up in them big ‘ouse of ‘ers.”
“It’s been three weeks, Bonnie,” Maddy says with a shrug. “Lady Beckett is very slim, the birth was bound to take its toll, you cannot read things into that.”
“But Tony Murdoch says…”
“Little Tony Murdoch?” Miss Eliot interrupts. “Caught him stealin’ from the kitchen when we was at Mr Porter’s. Good for nothin’ lad that one.”
“Tony says,” Bonnie continues, not really paying attention to Miss Eliot. “Martha, that girl of ‘is ‘eard screamin’ from the Lady’s bedroom for days after the baby was born. And she wasn’t the only one to ‘ear either. And then suddenly there was only silence. Tony reckons Lord Beckett killed ‘er now ‘e ‘as that heir of ‘is, and ‘e’s going to marry ‘is mistress, a wealthy widow from London.”
“Utter nonsense, that’s what this is,” Miss Eliot mumbles under her breath in annoyance.
“’Course it is,” Bonnie shrugs. “Everybody knows ‘e’s been bedding a whore for bloody ages. First a pirate bride now a whore, ‘e’s got fine taste that lord.”
“Bonnie,” Maddy’s voice is hard now, her smile gone. “You shouldn’t talk about people like that, what would your Master say if he heard?”
“He’d say ‘One more word and there’s no more place for you in this house’.”
Everybody freezes as a shadow moves in the doorway and Commodore Groves steps inside, back straight, eyes hard as if he was at sea, about to ensure discipline among those under his command. Bonnie looks too terrified to even blink under the disapproving gaze, she opens her mouth a couple of times as if to say something in her defence but no sound comes out. Miss Eliot looks pleased, the girl had it coming for a long time.
“As long as you are in this house you will never again speak of matters that don’t concern you, Bonnie,” he says. “Understood?”
The girl nods quickly a couple of times.
“Consider yourself lucky my wife didn’t hear you. If you had upset her with your foolish words…” he fails to keep the anger out of his words. “Get out of my sight.”
Bonnie quickly runs out of the kitchen without looking back, and after a glance at Groves Miss Eliot stops cleaning the chicken for dinner and leaves the room, she knows her master well enough to see when he wants her out of the room. Maddy watches the Commodore walk to the window, dark eyes scanning the street, less prestigious than his rank would demand. His wife’s unfortunate past keeps better districts and the gates of elegant houses firmly closed to him and even though Lord Beckett has offered his help many times, Groves is more than reluctant to accept more favours than absolutely necessary, Maddy heard her master say once.
“How is Mrs Groves?” she asks to break the silence.
“She’s still Goldie to you, you know,” Groves says, gaze briefly lingering on a ragged-looking woman with wild madness in her eyes and slightly unhinged movements as she keeps pulling the dirty scarf lower over her forehead, offering men to tell their fortunes in a voice that is still a faint shadow of a siren’s irresistible lure. “She could use an honest friend, Maddy.”
“I wasn’t sure…” she shrugs, tucking a stray brown lock behind her ear.
“You will always be welcome in this house,” Groves states firmly. “Coming through the front door like a guest.”
Maddy is unsure how to respond to the unexpected offer, so she just repeats her question, fondness softening her voice.
“How is she?”
A brief flicker of a loving smile flashes across Groves’ face.
“Tired and moody. She’s only a month away now.”
“I might be able to see her for a few hours after church next Sunday, if that’s…”
Groves nods but he seems a million miles away. Maddy looks around uncertainly, sensing that there’s something he wants to talk to her about, but uncomfortable about his hesitance at bringing it up. But just as she considers leaving he suddenly speaks.
“I heard Mr Rutherford has been to visit Lady Beckett a few times lately,” he says still not looking at Maddy, missing the momentary surprise on her face. She’s reluctant to confirm but as far as she knows the visits are no secret and she could never bring herself to mistrust Groves despite his apparent loyalty to Lord Beckett.
“He’s a good friend to Mrs Lardner,” she says cautiously. Groves looks at her with very serious eyes, lacking the easy glint of mischief all the girls fell in love with just a couple of years ago. A small object wrapped tightly in a pristine handkerchief is in his palm and she can see the tiny tremble in his always steady hand as he hands it over.
“For Eli,” he says simply. A lesser man would have asked her (or even threatened her) not to open it, but he must know she would never betray such trust. She gives him a small smile of assurance but when there’s a soft Ted? from upstairs he hurries away, his wife taking over all his thoughts, and he leaves Maddy standing in the kitchen, clasping the tiny, weightless bundle between her long fingers.