Pirates of the Caribbean: Barbossa and the King's Messenger (Book 1)

The Last Secrets

Chapter Thirty One - The Last Secrets

I walked out of the library with Jack at my side, and scanned the hall for signs of Barbossa. Being a man of a decidedly proud temperament, Barbossa had withdrawn and busied himself elsewhere, rather than be seen standing at the door, waiting upon Teague's pleasure.

As I surveyed the hall, Jack commented gleefully, "You've no idea what it'd be worth to me to hear this." 

I glanced at him sharply.

"It would never have worked between the two of you, Brat," he went on, cheerily anticipating the demise of my betrothal.

"Never you mind about that." I threw back my shoulders, with far more bravado than actual confidence in my heart. "Just you concentrate on a pretty gift for our anniversary! And another for the brat I'll have and name after you!"

Jack laughed. "Just keep tellin' yourself that, darlin'."

I noticed Barbossa crossing the hall towards us looking rather put out, but as he drew near I smiled and held out my hand. "Will you walk with me into town?"

Before he could answer, Jack spoke up. "I'll just go have a look round for more rum; you must have so many things to discuss!" With a too-sweet smile, he backed away and departed.

"What was it that Teague wanted ye for? I want none o' that once yer me wife," Hector said, ignoring my hand.

"Then we agree." I insinuated my hand about his elbow and leaned against him. "And you shall know everything we spoke of. But we should make our way to town - I want to walk along the shore path with you, love. Let's have a few moments' peace before all the hurly-burly begins."

I took him out through the once-lovely gardens of Highcliffe, now weedy and abandoned, along the sandy paths to the cliffs.

As we approached the stone stair to the beach, I remembered my dream of Calypso. I looked nervously at Hector. "Can you see Highcliffe's roof from here and tell me . . . is he there?" Hector turned around and stared back at the roof.

"Now that be a wonder," he answered, eyes widening and awe in his voice. "Ay, the both of 'em be there. T'is her doin', ain't it?" I nodded and we continued our walk, taking the footpath down to the water's edge, then turning towards Pencarren and walking along the beach.

It was my favourite sort of day, brilliantly sunny and not too breezy, with the smell of brine in the air. The sapphire waters of the sea lightened to soft azure near shore, pooling in shallow depressions fed by tiny, glistening streams that threaded their way across the pale sands.

Hector stared out to sea, squinting in the sun, and I could sense his longing to be underway once more. He turned to me and I saw the familiar lynx-like expression.

"Ye understand that ye can't tell anyone?" he asked. "That's fer yer own good as well as mine. I care not what the folk in Pencarren say, but I'll not have it known in places where they can use it t' damn yer prospects or me life."

I nodded. "We're agreed." I looked up at him. "Husband." Then I drew my breath in as if suddenly struck by an idea. "But what about . . . if I should find that-"

"No brats," he said firmly. "I mean it. An' if ye be . . . well, ye can find a matron who knows the sort o' help ye'll need." He looked a bit unsettled as he said this, but I chose not to challenge him on it, not just yet. No one knows the future, I thought. Not even you, Hector.

I crossed my fingers behind my back and chose each word with care, as he himself had taught me. "I understand." Not a lie, but not an assent. I took his arm as we resumed walking. "And I must find a little money of my own."